


I’m Fighting Harder (Run Away From This Place)

by StardustDreamMate



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 00 line - Freeform, Angst, Best Friends, Car Accident, Cheating, Crack, Drama, Eventual Happy Ending, Falling In Love, Fighting, First Kiss, Fluff, High School AU, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I promise this isn’t just sad, Jealousy, M/M, Making Up, Mentions of verbal abuse, Panic Attack, Paralysis, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Pining, Side Ships, brief homophobic language, mild depression, minor bullying scene, not graphic though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2020-07-05 03:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 81,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19828525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StardustDreamMate/pseuds/StardustDreamMate
Summary: It’s been been 17 days, 13 hours, 43 minutes since Jaemin’s world turned upside down.17 days, 13 hours, 43 minutes since his lifelong passion was destroyed.17 days, 13 hours, and 43 minutes since Jaemin was in a major car accident. The accident that took his ability to walk away.OrJaemin finds himself on a long road to recovery where nothing is how it used to be. He’s lost his ability to walk and to run, placed in therapy that seems pointless, his passion he had just rekindled stolen from him, and his best friend is literally the cutest human to ever exist, only...he’s never looked at Jaemin himself twice.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Demi_dings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demi_dings/gifts).



> The title is from Hellevator by Stray Kids
> 
> This is one of the first times I’m attempting angst, bear with me! 
> 
> Trigger warnings: brief mentions of cancer, car accidents, depression, verbal abuse, bullying, physical abuse/domestic violence, cheating, (mentioned underage drinking) 
> 
> Please don’t read it if it makes you uncomfortable!
> 
> I don’t own or speak for any of the real life people that these characters are based on. This is a work of fiction and it should be taken as such. 
> 
> I also don’t mean to assume anything about proper Korean culture, this story is a mix of my culture and other cultures I know of, as well as some aspects of Korean. I’m ALSO not a doctor, so don’t put too much stock into my medical procedures and stuff because research only works so well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: cancer, car accident

Jaemin rolled over in his bed, sunshine streaming through the open window blinds, and decided that today was going to be a good day.

He had just agreed to sign up for the track competition that his high school was hosting, a competition that he had agonized over for for more than three weeks.

It wasn’t that Jaemin didn’t want to sign up, per se, he just didn’t know if he was ready to go back to running.

~

Ever since he was little, Jaemin‘s dad used to make him watch the games with him, saying, ”Watch with me. See how good they are? See how hard they worked to be here? If you work this hard, too, you can go there some day, Jaemin. You can be on millions of screens across the world. And you can bring Korea glory.”

When he was 7 years old, little Jaemin has looked at him with wide eyes and asked him why he would ever want that. His dad had laughed at him and just pulled him close. “I think you’ll be surprised, Jaejae.”

And, when he watched his first Olympic Games, just like his dad had said, he fell in love with a sport. Running. He had been fascinated by the way the athletes had run like lightning across the track, feet flying, barely touching the ground at all.

He went to his first track meet on his 8th birthday, his dad smiling at him from the bleachers, flashing him a thumbs up as he stretched on the starting line.

After that, track became Jaemin and dad time. His dad would go and cheer him on while Jaemin poured his heart into the sport and into improving.

Then the next Olympics came rolling around and, when they sat down to watch the opening ceremony, Jaemin’s dad had looked at him with a sad, sad look in his eyes. And somehow, Jaemin had known that whatever his dad said next was going to be bad. That nothing was ever going to be the same again.

Two years later, when Jaemin was 13, his dad passed away from cancer. That was the day Jaemin decided he wasn’t going to run again. He wasn’t going to compete, he wasn’t going to go to meets, he wanted nothing to do with it; he was done with track.

~

Now, six years after his father’s death, a boy with warm brown eyes that curve up into crescents every time he smiles is the reason Jaemin decided that he needed to stop hiding from the shadow of what could have been.

Jeno convinced him that his dad would have wanted him to keep running. “You know your father wouldn’t have wanted you to give up track just because of him. He would want you to continue doing what you love. Even if you have to do it without him.” And that was what it took.

“I’m so curious, yeah~”, Jaemin hummed along to a song playing on his phone as he started getting dressed for school. He looked for Jeno’s hoodie that he had stolen from the older boy a few days ago, grinning when he found it.

Jaemin loved stealing the black-haired boy’s clothes. They were comfy and smelled like him, making Jaemin love them more. Why he liked the smell of his best friend, he had no clue. It probably just comforted his subconscious or whatever. He totally hasn’t been harboring a crush on him for years. Of course not.

“Tonight! Shinee’s in the House! Ho, ho~”. Jaemin stared intensely into the mirror, studying his reflection.

His orange hair was tousled from sleep, but not messy enough to require combing. Black ripped skinny jeans adorned his long legs, the edge of his white t-shirt just barely peeking out from the edge of Jeno’s sweatshirt.

Satisfied, he grinned and walked over to his end table to grab his phone and backpack from the floor. Heading downstairs, he kissed his mom on the cheek before skipping out the door.

“So give it up, give it up, give it up for Shinee~!”

Oh today was going to be a good day, Jaemin thought.

~

“Sup nerd,” Jaemin greeted Jeno, setting his tray down next to he other boy’s and plopping down beside him.

“How many times do I have to tell you and Donghyuck that,” Jeno replied, not looking up from his textbook,” just because I study for tests, doesn’t mean I’m a nerd.”

“You know I’m just teasing, Jen,” Jaemin cooed, squishing the older’s cheek. Jeno scrunched his nose up and made a face at him.

“Really, Nana?” he pouted, punching Jaemin lightly.

“Ow!” Jaemin rubbed his arm and looked at Jeno balefully.

“You deserved it!” Jeno crowed.

“Not really!”

“Yeah really.”

“Okay, maybe, but did you have to punch me?” Jaemin whined, shooting puppy eyes at Jeno.

“Nope, but I wanted to!” Jeno looked way too amused.

“I hate you.”

“I love you!” Jeno cooed, eyes curving up into crescents.

In three seconds, Jaemin simultaneously:

1.) Combusted from Jeno’s cuteness  
2.) Died because the words “I love you” came from Jeno’s mouth and were directed at JAEMIN  
3.) Completely forgot about the argument because, really, it was stupid, and who could resist Jeno’s eye smile? Like damn!

“Finally!” Donghyuck yelled, plopping down across from them and smirking. “I wondered if you two were ever going to quit beating around the bush.”

Both of them blushed scarlet red and avoided looking at each other.

“Nana knows I love him,” Jeno mumbled. Jaemin died again. Okay maybe I DO have a crush on Jeno, he decided

“Of course he does,” Donghyuck agreed mildly, not looking like he agreed at all. “Anyway,” he continued, “did you sign up for the track competition, Nana?”

“Yup.” That had been the first thing Jaemin had done when he got to school.

“Good.” And with that, Donghyuck turned his attention to his lunch and started devouring it.

“Hey losers,” A voice said. Jaemin looked up to see Renjun standing there. The oldest of the group was smiling angelically, his expression contrasting drastically with his greeting.

“Hey Injunnie,” Jeno replied, still reading his textbook.

“Whatcha studying?” Renjun sat down next to Donghyuck.

“Physics.”

“I hate physics,” Donghyuck grumbled, seemingly done destroying the cafeteria mac and cheese.

“Amen,” Jaemin replied, grimacing. The conversation gradually shifted to other topics and Jaemin tuned it out, head drifting into the clouds.

He was brought back to earth by Jeno’s voice. “C’mon, Nana, the bell just rang.”

Jaemin shook his head to clear it, taking his backpack from Jeno’s hand. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Jeno smiled at him. “You know,” he said, “if you’re not busy practicing for your track competition, after school, do you want to come over?”

“Really?” Jaemin asked excitedly, as they walked down the hallway. He hadn’t been over to Jeno’s in a long time. Well, three days, but that’s a long time for the two of them!

“No, I’m just asking you so I can tell you no and crush you,” Jeno replies sarcastically. “Yes, really.”

“Yeah absolutely! I was gonna practice for an hour-ish, but I can definitely come over after.”

“Sounds good!” Jeno smiled his eye smile. “See you tonight then, Nana!” He turned and ran down the hall to his calculus class. Jaemin smiles fondly at his retreating figure, before stepping into History.

A good day, indeed.

~

Jaemin had forgotten how much he missed track. Sure, he had ran outside to exercise, but he hadn’t stepped foot on a track-track in years. It felt nice to run the stopwatch again and just lose himself in the sound of his feet pounding on the pavement.

After an hour of practice, Jaemin walked over to the showers and rinsed off, happy to get all the sweat off. The one thing he hated about running (and exercising in general, really) was sweating. It always made him feel gross.

Now, fresh and clean, Jaemin walked off the athletic field, texting him mom that practice was over and he was headed over to Jeno’s. He knew she wouldn’t mind. His mom wouldn’t be home from her waitressing job until late that night, anyway.

Jaemin pulled his headphones out of his pocket, plugging them into his phone and putting them in his ears. As he walked, he sang along to the music, immersing himself in it.

He was crossing the road in front of Jeno’s house when he saw a massive truck speeding towards him, completely ignoring the stop sign. Jaemin let out an unearthly screech and tried to run out of the way, but he wasn’t fast enough.

The truck hit him. Jaemin heard a scream of, “JAEMIN!” and felt a searing pain in his lower back and legs before he blacked out.


	2. Chapter 2

The human brain worked in funny ways, Jaemin thought. His had been keeping a stopwatch of how long he’s been here, in this hospital bed. He’s had a useless string of statistics in his head that refuse to stop running.

17 days, 13 hours, 43 minutes since his accident.

7 days since he woke up from his coma.

Jeno has come to visit 17 times and Jaemin’s mom, 14.

6 days since the doctor told him he would never walk again.

3 days since the wheelchair arrived. Jaemin hasn’t looked at it since.

It’s so peculiar. All he had wanted to do was visit Jeno. And somehow, for some reason, fate decided that he needed to be hit with a truck.

A knock sounded on the door. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” Jaemin stared at the door as it opened. As expected, Jeno walked in, backpack slung over his shoulder, carrying a little cardboard box.

“Hey, Nana,” Jeno said, hauling a chair over to his bedside and plopping down. “I brought you a cupcake.” He handed him the little box. Jaemin didn’t open it.

“Thanks Jen.” Jaemin managed to tear his eyes away from the wall, and his brain away from his tragedy, to meet his best friend’s eyes and attempt to smile. “How was school?”

“Shitty,” Jeno replied, “Hyuck and Injunnie are really worried about you. They’re actually gonna stop over here tonight.”

Jaemin sighed heavily. He knew he was burdening his friends by refusing to answer their calls or texts, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to care. His life has been turned upside down. Nothing felt important anymore. When Jaemin looked up, Jeno was studying him with a strange look in his eyes. Jaemin stared back at him, but Jeno flinched and looked away.

The pair lapsed into silence, Jaemin going back to brooding and Jeno, to work on homework. The silence wasn’t stifling, but it was nothing like them at all. And yet somehow, Jaemin just couldn’t bring himself to care.

~

When Jaemin woke up from his nap, there were two new voices in his room. _Donghyuck and Renjun,_ he thought.

“—how long—refuse for?”

“—since it arrived.”

“I’m worried for him.”

Jaemin could hear snippets of the conversation through the ringing in his ears. He knew they were talking about him.

“Why won’t you use the wheelchair?” Donghyuck demanded, slicing through the fog in Jaemin’s brain. He opened his eyes and looked emptily back up at him.

“Donghyuck!” Renjun scolded. “Jaemin’s not ok right now! Yelling at him won’t solve anything!”

“I’m crippled,” Jaemin replied flatly. “I’m paralyzed from the waist down.”

“No shit, Sherlock!” Donghyuck yelled. “That’s what the wheelchair is for!”

“What if I don’t want to use it?”

“Why.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I hate being so goddamn weak!” Jaemin yelled, exploding. “I hate that one asshole, just one, messed up _, uncaring person,_ completely destroyed my life!” His friends recoiled from him in shock. Never in the five years that they had known him had Jaemin yelled at them. Been mad, sure, but he had never yelled. “How am I supposed to sit in that wheelchair and accept it when I remember what it feels like to walk?!”

Jeno started crying, tears slipping down his cheeks, and Renjun reached over and tucked him into his arms.

“How can I sit there and be pushed around when I just remembered what it feels like to run?” Jaemin whispered, the dam in his mind breaking down and bringing with it all of his mixed emotions.

“Hey,” Renjun said softly, ”We can’t promise you that it’s going to be okay,” he said. “We just can’t.” Donghyuck snorted. “But,” Renjun continued, ignoring Donghyuck, ”I can tell you that it’s not going to get any better if you just stay in this bed and let your depression eat at you. I know it’s not going to be easy, and you’re going to have to adjust to a lot of different things, but I know you can do it. We all do.” Renjun smiled. “And we’ll be right beside you for all of it.”

Jaemin felt one hot, salty tear slide down his cheek before Jeno was hugging him, climbing onto the bed next to him and curling up against his side. Jaemin felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips and breathed in the sweet scent of Jeno’s lavender shampoo.

Jaemin looked up at his other friends. Donghyuck was furiously wiping at his eyes, while Renjun was relatively composed. “Coming?” Jaemin asked, a real, genuine smile stretching across his lips.

That was all it took. Both boys squeezed onto the tiny mattress with him and Jeno, Donghyuck cuddling up to his other side, Renjun sitting at the top and stroking his hair. Jaemin leaned into Renjun’s touch, nearly purring, before wrapping an arm around Donghyuck.

“Asshole,” Donghyuck mumbled, sniffling loudly.

“I know.” Jaemin really did. He knew he had been unfair to his friends.

Jeno’s mouth brushed Jaemin’s ear, all of his senses narrowing in on the sensation. “If you want,” he whispered, “ I can take you out for a walk tomorrow, when no one else is here.” Another hot tear ran down his cheek. Jeno knew that he didn’t want to be weak in front of anyone, Jaemin thought. But “anyone” wasn’t Jeno. Jeno was different than anyone. Jeno would never judge him.

“Okay,” Jaemin replied, smiling into Jeno’s fluffy hair.

The four of them just lay there, listening to each other’s breathing, happy that they were all together.

~

Jaemin was not okay.

He’d been checking the clock obsessively since school was supposed to be over. Jeno was going to take him on a walk around the park. In his wheelchair. Jaemin had agreed yesterday because Donghyuck and Renjun had guilted him into it, and because he could never say no to Jeno, but also because he knew he had to. But that didn’t stop him from being terrified.

“Can I come in?” Jeno’s voice asked through the door.

“Hi Jeno,” Jaemin replied. The other boy chuckled before letting himself into the room.

“Hey, Nana,” he replied, smiling brightly. “Are you ready? I got permission from the doctors to take you out.”

“No not really,” Jaemin replied, making a face. “I’m terrified.” Now that Jeno was here, though, he wasn’t sure “terrified” ever began to cover it.

“Well,” Jeno said thoughtfully, sitting on the end of Jaemin’s bed, “sometimes I think you just have to face your fears.”

“Okay.” Jaemin looked at him expectantly. Jeno smiled softly, before getting up to bring the wheelchair over.

“Let me just—“, Jeno mumbled, parking it next to the bed. “Okay,” he said, looking determinedly at Jaemin. “I’m gonna pick you up.”

Jaemin stared at him. Was he serious? “Are you serious?” He asked.

“Well, yeah,” Jeno replied, crossing his arms. “How else am I gonna get you into this?”

Jaemin blushed. Jeno laughed, taking that as his answer. Thankfully, Jaemin thought, the hospital had decided that he could wear normal clothes. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Jeno pulled the covers off of Jaemin’s legs, flinching a little when he saw the gigantic bruises just above the edge of his casts. 

“Oh, Nana,” he murmured, before sliding an arm under his legs and one around his shoulders, picking him up bridal style. Jaemin blushed scarlet when he felt just how solid Jeno’s chest was next to his body. He’d known Jeno was working out, but feeling the fruits of his efforts was a whole different story.

Jeno set him down carefully in the wheelchair, adjusting his legs so they were straight on the footrest. “Ready to go?” He asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Jaemin replied, twisting his head around to look up at Jeno.

“Let’s go!”

~

Walking through the park was actually kind of nice, Jaemin decided, as Jeno pushed him through the trees. Granted, he’d rather be walking by himself and maybe even holding Jeno’s hand, but this wasn’t bad either. 

As Jeno pushed him through the park, Jaemin smiled. This wasn’t so bad. He could feel the sunshine on his skin after a week of being cooped up inside, hear the chirping of the birds. He could almost pretend he was normal. 

And then it happened. He ran into someone he knew. 

“Hey, Jeno! Jaemin!” A tall, lanky boy with blond hair ran up behind them, followed by another blond, just slightly shorter. 

“Hey Jisung,” Jaemin said softly, watching as Jisung and Chenle walked around the front of the wheelchair and stopped in their tracks. 

Chenle and Jisung were two of the underclassmen at their high school that Renjun tutored after school. Jaemin had even hung out with them a few times, watching movies at Renjun’s after an impromptu study session. Chenle was actually from China and had the loudest laugh Jaemin had ever heard. Jisung, he didn’t know too much about, as the younger was typically super quiet and reserved. 

“Oh, Jaemin,” Chenle whispered. “Renjun said something that happened to you, but we didn’t know how bad.” That made sense, actually. Renjun had promptly adopted Chenle after finding out he was Chinese too. Their shared homeland had made them fast friends. 

Jisung just blinked before asking, “So...what happened?” 

“Jaemin was hit by a car,” Jeno replied for him, his hand drifting down from the wheelchair's handle and to the nape of Jaemin’s neck, stroking it softly, a silent plea to stay calm. 

“Oh damn, that’s horrible.” Jisung looked pissed. “Do you know who did it?”

“Nope.” Now _Jeno_ looked pissed. “He drove away right after it happened. And I was too preoccupied with Nana to try to write down the plate number.” Jeno’s voice was laced with guilt. 

“Well I’m glad you had Nana,” Chenle said decidedly. “I can’t imagine what would have happened if you weren’t there.” 

Jeno’s tone darkened. “He wouldn’t have been in it if I hadn’t invited him over.” 

Jisung looked absolutely floored by that statement. “What are you on, hyung?!” He asked. “You can’t blame yourself for some asshole’s actions.” 

Jaemin grimaced internally. He wanted so badly to turn around and kiss Jeno’s cheek and tell him that he didn’t blame him at all and that it wasn’t his fault, but he knew he couldn’t. That wasn’t what friends did, not even best friends. It was what _boyfriends_ did. And he wasn’t Jeno’s boyfriend. 

“I suppose not,” Jeno said, just as Chenle said, “Yeah don’t.” 

Jisung chuckled a little, wrapping his arm around Chenle’s shoulders. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay, hyung. We’ll let you and Jeno hyung alone. Maybe we’ll come visit you some day,” he said, smiling. 

Jaemin thought about it for a second before saying, “I think I’d like that.” And he meant it. He didn’t know the two underclassmen all that well, but Jaemin thought he’d like to. 

“Bye!” Chenle chirped, letting Jisung guide him away. 

“Bye kiddos,” Jaemin said softly, before turning to Jeno. 

“Do you really blame yourself for what happened to me?” He asked 

“Maybe a little bit,” Jeno hummed, pushing Jaemin down a rosebush-lined path. The roses were all different colors, reds, yellows, pinks, white, and they were beautiful to look at, but Jaemin didn't find himself admiring them all that much. He was too worried about Jeno. 

“It sounded like more than just a little bit," he remarked mildly. 

“Fine,” Jeno sounded upset. “I just can’t help but feel like this never would have happened if I hadn’t asked you over and,” he paused, “I keep wondering what we’d be doing right now if I hadn’t.” 

Jaemin frowned. “But it’s not your fault, and you can’t think of it like that.” 

Jeno sighed. “But I am, Nana.”

Jaemin frowned harder. “Don’t.”

Jeno stopped pushing him for a second. “But I am.” 

“Don’t.” 

“Nana.” Jeno's hand brushed the back of his neck, making him shiver. 

“I said don’t! If you care about me at all, Jeno, then don’t!” He exclaimed, craning his neck to look up at Jeno. “I promise I don’t blame you at all, Jen,” he added, softly. 

“I’ll try,” Jeno relented. “I just feel bad.” His thumb stroked over the nape of Jaemin's neck lightly, pressing down just a little. 

“I don’t blame you.” Jaemin leaned into the touch. No matter what was wrong with him, Jeno's touch had always calmed him, even when they were little kids. 

“I know.” Jeno bent down and rested his head on Jaemin’s and, for a second, Jaemin could have sworn he felt a kiss pressed against his hair. 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

After going on the walk through the park with Jeno, Jaemin felt exceptionally bored waiting around in his hospital room. _Okay, fine, it's only been three days, and the boy still comes and visits you,_ Jaemin's brain reminded him, but he didn’t really care. It was boring being cooped up with only his phone. There’s a limit to how long social media and surfing the web can entertain you.

Jaemin knew he wasn’t going to be here for much longer. The doctor had told him such, after all. He had about three more days left, if everything went according to plan, before he would be discharged from the hospital. And then he'd have to go back to school (ew), but he’d get to sleep in his own, much comfier bed (yay). The worst part was probably going to be getting around the crowded hallways and seeing the pitying looks on the faces of his peers.

His next two days in the hospital flew by pretty quickly, surprisingly. He had physical therapy, checkups, and countless questions from the doctors. When Jaemin was told he'd have to go to physical therapy, he snorted. _For what?_ , he’d said. According to Jeno, he’d gotten lucky enough to have landed on the grass of the older boy's yard which saved his arms from being broken, but the car had hit his lower back and legs, hence the casts and wheelchair.

His PT mostly consisted of testing out his arms and trying to move his feet. Jaemin almost laughed, again, when the trainer told him to try to stand. "On what legs," he said. "Mine are broken, and even if they weren’t, I can’t use them. I’m paralyzed." Somehow, saying the words out loud had made it feel more real.

When 3 o'clock came rolling around, the door to his hospital room opened and Jaemin smiled behind closed lids. "Hey, Jen," he greeted.

To his surprise however, his greeting was returned with a high-pitched dolphin shriek and a deep chuckle.

Jaemin smiled, even if it wasn’t who he was hoping for. "Hey Chenle, Jisung," he replied, pulling himself upright and smiling. "Sorry, I thought you were Jeno."

Chenle giggled again, thankfully not as shrilly. "We were gonna come visit anyway," the Chinese boy said, plopping down on the edge of Jaemin's bed.

Jisung smiled, dragging a chair over. "Jeno said he'd be along later and that he's sorry he's late. He had to finish up some work for Mr. Park."

Jaemin smiled. Jeno was always so aware of his every action and how it might affect others. "It's fine," he said, studying the younger two. "How's Mr. Byun's class coming? Is Renjun's tutoring helping?"

Jisung made a face, and Chenle giggled a third time. "Injun's helpful," Jisung said at the same time Chenle said, "Gege is trying."

"So, one says that Renjun's helpful, and the other other says he's trying," Donghyuck's voice mused from the doorway. He sounded highly amused by the fact.  
  
"Yup," Chenle smiled sweetly. Jaemin cooed a little, internally.

"What are they saying about me?" Renjun asked, slipping past Donghyuck and into the room. "Hi Jaeminnie."

"Hi Injun." Jaemin covered his smirk with the back of his hand. "Chenle and Jisung were giving their opinions on your tutoring skills."

"Were they good?"

" 'Injun's helpful' and 'Gege's trying'", Jaemin dutifully recited, grinning wolfishly at the pair.

Renjun turned to glare at the pair before turning back to Jaemin, ruffling his hair and smirking. "Thank you, pet," he said, imitating the villains in movies, stroking the side of Jaemin's jaw.

"Of course, master. I live to serve," Jaemin smirked back, leaning into the touch like he was a cat.

Jisung coughed and muttered "gross", while Donghyuck just smirked. "I didn’t know you two were into roleplay," he teased.

Renjun just laughed. "Nana's not my cup of tea, anyway, even if I was."

Jaemin grimaced. "Yeah same. Sorry Injunnie."

Donghyuck's grin widened. "Maybe that’s true, he said, "but I know that a certain Lee Jeno is Jaeminnie's type."

"His only type," Jisung agreed, a shit-eating grin plastered to his face. Chenle and a Renjun just smiled knowingly.

"Who's type is who?" Jeno asked, head poking through the doorway, hands hidden behind his back. Jaemin's heart had started racing, his breath in coming quicker spurts, the minute he heard Jeno's voice.

"No one's", Jaemin replied at the same time Donghyuck and Jisung cheerfully chorused, "yours!"

Jeno blinked at Jaemin owlishly before smiling. "Sorry it took me so long! Mr. Park said he didn’t get my essay, so I had to help him find it."

"It's fine, Jen." Jaemin smiled. His friend group was complete, now, with Jeno here.

"Here you go!" Jeno said suddenly, stepping in and thrusting a bouquet of flowers at a Jaemin.

Jaemin just blinked at it. "What?"

"Since you’re getting discharged tomorrow and I can’t be here," Jeno explained, staring studiously at his shoes. "It's a present," he added lamely.

Jaemin blinked again, in shock. He vaguely registered Renjun facepalming while Donghyuck groaned. "Just take the goddamn bouquet," he muttered

Jaemin shook his head, snapping out of his temporary trance. "Thanks," he mumbled, taking the bouquet of sunflowers and smiling. "They’re beautiful."

Jisung coughed. "This is awkward," the freshman muttered.

Both Jeno and Jaemin blushed bright red, Jeno still staring at the floor. Donghyuck frowned before Renjun nudged his side pointedly and coughed. Jaemin saw him then bump Jisung's shoulder with his hip, who then nudged Chenle's foot. A glance passed between the four of them, before Renjun smiled sweetly at Jaemin.

"Hyuck and I have a test to study for, so we’re gonna go," he said, walking over and ruffling Jaemin's hair. "Bye Nana, see you tomorrow." He bent down to give him a hug. "Later, Jeno," The oldest called, walking out the door. Donghyuck hugged Jaemin too, before following Renjun out.

Jisung pulled out his phone and fiddled with it for a second, before it dinged. "Oh, Taeil wants me to come home," he said, nudging Chenle's foot again. "Want to come with, Lele?"

Chenle blinked at him. "What?"

"Let’s go, Lele. Taeil needs help making dinner," Jisung said, staring at him pointedly. Jaemin stared at both of them, wondering what the hell was going on. He knew they were trying to leave him and Jeno alone together, they weren’t subtle enough, but he had no clue why. And they'd just got here; they didn’t have to leave. It wasn’t like he didn’t want them around too. Jeno was still oblivious, though. 

"But—," Chenle protested, before Jisung tugged him to his feet, hand on the small of his back.

"Bye Nana, bye Jeno," Jisung said, nudging Chenle a little. "You gonna say bye?"

Chenle started over and gave both Jeno and Jaemin a hug before going back to Jisung's side.

"Bye guys!" He chirped, but Jaemin noted he looked confused.

"Bye, Lele, bye Sungie" Jeno said, smiling his eye smile at the pair, before they, too, ducked out. Right before Jisung left, Jaemin saw the freshman flash him a wink before the door closed softly behind them.

Jeno turned to look at Jaemin. "That was kinda weird," he remarked. "I don't remember there being a test in any of our classes any time soon."

Jaemin just shrugged. "I wouldn’t know," he commented, looking down as his legs, covered up by a blanket. "I haven’t been to school in nearly a month. I’ve probably got a stack of papers as tall as Injunnie to fill out."

Jeno's eyes curved up into his signature crescents. "Aw, don’t worry about that, Nana," he comforted, crawling into the bed with Jaemin and hugging him. "We can always help you if you need it."

"Thanks, Jen." Jaemin cuddled into his best friend's arms, sighing contentedly.

"Of course," Jeno murmured, petting his hair. "That’s what—" he paused for a second, momentarily stopping his petting, before continuing in a softer tone,"—best friends are for." Jaemin felt his heart lurch at the pause Jeno had had when he said "best friends". Was it possible that he liked him back?

"I don’t know what I’d do without you," Jaemin murmured into his chest.

"Me either." Jeno clutched him closer to his chest, fingers gentle working the tangles out of Jaemin's hair, occasionally brushing against the shell of his ears. Jaemin fought the urge to shiver.

It was silent for a few minutes, before Jaemin asked, "Was school ok?"

Jeno hummed. "I suppose. Everyone wonders where you are and what's happened, but we only ever told Lele and Jisung because they're stubborn and pestered us until Renjun caved."

Jaemin laughed a little, choosing to ignore the part about people asking about him. "We adopted some stubborn underclassmen, that’s for sure," he replied.

"We did." They back lapsed into a comfortable silence.

"Jeno?" Jaemin asked, breaking the silence again.

"Yeah, Nana?"

"Do you think I'll ever be able to walk again?"

Jeno thought for a moment, fingers stilling in Jaemin's hair. Jaemin whined, nudging Jeno's hand with his head. Jeno laughed. "So needy, Nana." Jaemin nodded happily when he complied. Jeno hummed, seemingly thinking about his answer. "I don’t know if you'll be able to walk," he said truthfully. "The doctor seems to think you won’t," he continued, resting his head on top of Jaemin's. "But honestly? I think it’s possible. How many times have you seen a story where someone was told they’d never walk again, and they do?"

Jaemin smiled. Lee Jeno, always the optimist. "What if I’m not one of those people?"

"You won’t know until you try." Jaemin moved to pick up his legs and slide them off the bed. Jeno panicked. "Not now! Not now, Nana, you adorable idiot! Don’t try it now!" Jeno cradled him back in his arms. "Let’s not get hurt right before you’re supposed to be discharged," he suggested.

"Okay fine," Jaemin huffed. "But really, what if I’m not one of those people?"

Jaemin felt rather than saw Jeno's shrug. "Then I'll push you in your wheelchair until you can do it yourself."

Jaemin's heart cooed at the sweet sentiment, while Jaemin's face frowned. "I hate that wheelchair though."

"I know." Jeno sounded remarkably calm, just sad. "And you don’t have to love it. Just use it."

Jaemin sighed. "Why are you so reasonable, Jeno?"

Jeno laughed. "Because Hyuck and you aren’t. So Injun and I have to be the responsible ones."

Jaemin laughed. _Fair_ , he thought. Donghyuck and him were far from being the most reasonable people in a room.

"Thank you for offering to push me around," Jaemin mumbled, feeling bad that he was such a burden on his friends.

"It’s no problem at all," Jeno replied, smiling. "And I’m sure that if I can’t, Renjun or Hyuck will do it."

"I just feel like I’m burdening you all," Jaemin mumbled. "I promise I'll work harder so I can push myself."

Jeno just laughed. "You’re not burdening anyone, Nana."

"Okay." Jaemin cuddled up closer to Jeno, if that was even possible. He was pretty sure that if he tried any harder, they’d fuse into the same person.

"Do you want to go on a walk?" Jeno asked softly, lips brushing the shell of Jaemin's ear.

"C-can we j-just stay here and c-cuddle today?" Jaemin's voice squeaked as he stuttered. _God why did Jeno have to do that?!_ _Kill me now._

"Of course. I just wanted to make sure I offered." Jeno's lips brushed Jaemin's temple in a whisper of a kiss and Jaemin froze. _What was that_?!, he thought, mentally screaming. _Did Lee Jeno just kiss me?! Again?!_

"What was that?" Jaemin asked quietly.

"What was what?" Jaemin noted that Jeno's voice, while calm, seemed strained.

"Never mind." Jaemin turned in Jeno's arms to stare up at him. "Promise you'll tell me if I’m being a burden?"

"I promise."

Jaemin nodded, satisfied. "I’m tired, Jen."

"Do you want me to leave?" Jeno asked, brushing Jaemin's bangs out of his face, peering into his eyes. Jaemin's heart lurched. Jeno was always so beautiful, with his raven hair, chiseled jawline, and the eyes that Jaemin loved so much.

"No..."

"I’ll stay then." Jeno's fingers went back to carding through Jaemin's hair, who decided that he could get used to this. Jeno's fingers in his hair, lulling him to sleep, kisses to temples.

Jeno mumbled something unintelligible before sleep gently pulled Jaemin under.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you think? Does Jeno like Jaemin back? Was it a kiss? ;D


	4. Chapter 4

Jaemin's mom wheeled him out of the hospital the next day, uncharacteristically chipper and talkative. He knew she was trying to make him feel comfortable and soothe any of the worries that he might have, but, if anything, she was just making him more nervous.   
  
Now, Jaemin loved his mother to death. She always took care of him and would do anything for him. He knew it couldn't have been easy raising a teenager in the wake of your husband's death. And Jaemin has a very good idea of how hard it was.

His mom worked three jobs. She taught at a preschool from 8 am to 3 pm, worked at a local laundromat from 4 pm to 6, had an hour to see Jaemin and catch up with him, then went to work her waitressing shift at the diner from 8 to 11 at night. Jaemin knew how tired she was constantly. He felt horrible that his injuries were going to lead to some gigantic medical bills. That was part of why he had mentally dared the doctors to question why his mother came less than his friend. 

"Mom?" Jaemin asked.

"Yeah, baby?" She replied, pausing in her recollection of a conversation she'd had with a 5 year old about the rights of inanimate objects.

"Are we going to be able to handle the bills for treatment?"

Jaemin's mom sighed, pausing outside the subway entrance. "Honestly, Jaejae," She began, running a hand through her hair, "I don't know. I know that we got lucky that our insurance covers your wheelchair. Most paraplegic patients don't get that lucky." She ruffled his hair a little. "I know your grandparents offered to chip in, and so did my sister and your uncle. I just feel bad accepting their help. I'd have to pay them back at some point. You know how much I make, after all," she said, chuckling wryly. "It'd be a while."

"I can try to work, mom," Jaemin offered, holding her hand. "I'm so sorry you have to deal with this," he added quietly.

"Oh, baby, no," Jaemin's mom sounded heartbroken. "Oh, no, Jaemin, I don't blame you at all. It's gonna be okay, baby. We'll figure it out. I'm sure insurance can cover some things," she trailed off, as the train arrived.

Once they got off at the stop closest to the school, Jaemin thought about what his mom had said. He strongly doubted that insurance could help with everything, though. He'd need PT to learn how to exercise with his new complications, plus the cost of his lengthy stay in the hospital. And then, how would he get to school? It was too far away to wheel himself there every day, he wasn't going to make Jeno come pick him up every day, and their car didn't have a wheelchair ramp or lift (you know, like most cars). That left the bus. The handicap bus, to be specific.

"Well, baby, we should get you all sorted out with the principal," his mom said, interrupting his fretting.

"Yeah." Jaemin frowned heavily when his mom pushed him into the office, hating that he'd have to face his teachers like this, all the way down in a chair.

When the secretary saw him, she gasped loudly, hand coming up to cover her gaping mouth. "Jaemin?" She sounded shocked.

He waved sardonically. "Hey, Mrs. Jeon. How's it going?" She looked even more overwhelmed by that, making Jaemin's mom swat the back of his neck discreetly with a whispered "bad".

His mom cleared her throat. "We have an appointment with the principal. We're here to sort out how Jaemin's going to get to class, what his classes will be like now, specifically gym class, how he'll get to school, and explain his month long absence," she announced, looking pointedly at the secretary.

"Uh, yes ma'am, right over this way," Mrs. Jeon stuttered, looking at Jaemin's legs with sheer repulsion. He frowned. He'd never liked Mrs. Jeon, but really? Did she have to stare? She lead them to the principal's office, a plaque on the door reading, "Dr. Kim Junmyeon, SM School Principal".

"Dr. Kim?" She said, knocking on the door. "Mrs. Na is here to talk to you about Jaemin." A faint 'come in' sounded from behind the door.

Jaemin's mom pushed open the door, and he found himself face to face with Dr. Kim. Surprisingly, Jaemin realized that the principal was pretty young and handsome looking. His eyes were warm and kind.

"Would you like to take a seat, Mrs. Na?" He asked politely, gesturing her to one of the armchair in the office. Jaemin's mom sat down. Apparently satisfied, Dr. Kim smiled. "So how can I help you, Jaemin?"

Jaemin flushed. "Schedule, transportation, missed work, legs," he muttered, looking down at the floor.

"Ah, yes," The principal hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I don't think there will be much of a problem with transportation. We have the handicap bus that can come get you about a half hour before school," he said, drumming his fingers on his desk. Jaemin nodded. So he'd been right about the bus. "And," Junmyeon continued, "I'm sure I can arrange for you to be excused if you're late to class. And if a friend takes you, I'll make sure they're excused too."

Jaemin gaped. He had been hoping that he'd get a tardy pass, but he never actually considered that someone might be allowed to push him and be excused too. "Could you really excuse Jeno if he pushes me?"

Junmyeon laughed before winking at Jaemin. "I'm the principal. Of course I can." He smiled at him. "And I know how crowded the hallways are. It'd be a shame if you had to wait for them to clear out before you could go to class." His eyes twinkled mischievously.

Jaemin found himself grinning for the first time that day. "Thanks, Dr. Kim."

"Of course." He smiled again. "Just don't be too late to class, okay? Was there anything else?"

Jaemin's mom thought for a minute. "What will he do for gym? And makeup work?"

"He could either have a pass for gym and have a study hall instead, or he could participate in certain things if he chose to," Dr. Kim said, shuffling papers. "It wouldn't be a problem." He found a slim folder under the stack of papers. "Aha!" He crowed, making Jaemin and his mom laugh. "This is your classwork, Jaemin." The principal handed him the folder.

"Well, thank you, Dr. Kim," His mom said, standing up and dusting off her uniform. "I'm afraid I have to go to work. I'm already late. " she smiled apologetically.

"Thank you for bringing Jaemin," he replied, standing up too and shaking her hand. "It's been a pleasure meeting you." For some reason, Jaemin's mom blushed.

"Likewise." She dropped his hand and went to pull Jaemin out of the room.

Right before the door closed, Junmyeon called, "see you around, Mr. Na!"

Jaemin's mom dropped him off at the cafeteria, since it was nearly lunch time, before kissing his head and telling her to call him if he needs anything or if he's going to a friend's house. Once she left, Jaemin just kinda floated, lost in thought.

"Boo!" A loud cackle echoed in his ear, startling him, hands grabbing his shoulders.

"Lee Donghyuck, I swear to fucking God," Jaemin muttered, clutching his heart.

Donghyuck just bowed, before studying him. "I didn't know you were coming to school today," he said, frowning. "Weren't you just discharged this morning?"

Jaemin nodded. "Yeah, but mom wanted to sort out all my school stuff."  
  
Donghyuck nodded too. "Makes sense," he agreed. "Sucks that you had to come to school though." The younger boy wheeled Jaemin over to the serving counter, letting him pick what he wanted for lunch. Jongdae, the most cheerful lunch monitor whom Jaemin had often talked to, smiled at him, not even commenting on his wheelchair, making Jaemin's heart surge with relief. By the time Donghyuck had his food too and wheeled Jaemin back over to the table, their friends were there and half of the cafeteria was full, some people outright staring at Jaemin.

"They're such assholes," Renjun muttered, stabbing at his gyoza with his chopsticks. "They should mind their own goddamn business."

"I know, right?" Donghyuck agreed, sliding in next to him. "Some people just don't know what politeness is."

"At least no one's came over to pester him about it?" Jeno offered, briefly rubbing Jaemin's thigh and shooting him a small smile. Jaemin quickly melted into a metaphorical puddle of goo.

"Yeah." He picked at his kimchi jjigae, suddenly not nearly as hungry, now that he could literally feel the weight of the stares on him.

"How'd it go with Dr. Kim?" Renjun asked.

"Great, actually," Jaemin replied, perking up. "He even offered to give me a tardy pass and if one of you pushed me, you could be pardoned too."

"I can do that," Jeno piped up. "I already offered, so."

Instantly, Donghyuck started to argue with Jeno about taking him instead because ,"I don't want to go to class on time!!!"

Jaemin and Renjun shared an equally long-suffering look with each other from across the table.

"So you only want to push me so you can be late?" Jaemin teased. "Not because you care about me or anything. Just so you can be late to class. Wow, I feel so loved," Jaemin snarked sarcastically.

The look on Donghyuck's face was the look of a boy who knew he'd fucked up.

~

In the end, Jeno ended up being the one pushing Jaemin to class. But, Jaemin was happy to say that he wheeled himself down to his last period class with Mr. Park all on his own, AND he was on time. His arms were pretty sore afterwards though.

When he got to class, he was met with some pretty curious stares, but kindly, no one said anything. Jaemin careful maneuvered himself through the desks and to his seat in the back where his desk mate, Yukhei was waiting.

Now, Jaemin actually liked Yukhei. The older boy was fun and outgoing, but he could also be serious if he needed to be. They often gossiped about their fellow students together when class got too boring. Oh, and they were last-minute cramming buddies.

"Hey dude," The tall Chinese boy greeted, flashing him a bright smile.

"Sup, Xuxi." Jaemin parked his chair and promptly collapsed forward onto the table.

"You ok?" Yukhei asked quietly, too low for eavesdroppers to hear.

"In general or are you referring to my little problem downstairs?" Jaemin groaned back.

Yukhei cracked up. " ' Little problem downstairs' ", he repeated, wiping tears from his eyes. "I don't think that's what you meant," he cackled, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Jaemin groaned louder and blushed when he realized what he'd just said. "Not what I meant, you pervert," he grumbled.

Yukhei laughed for a couple more seconds, before sobering up. "No, but seriously, are you ok?"

Jaemin smiled at him. "I'm ok. I hate the wheelchair, but I'll get used to it." He liked how Yukhei wasn't being insanely invasive, just concerned.

"Oh." Yukhei blinked at him. "I wasn't really asking about the wheelchair, that's honestly your business," he said firmly, looking Jaemin in the eyes. "I was asking if I had to go beat someone up for giving you crap about it." Yukhei's jaw had a stubborn set to it, and his eyes were cold. "But I'm glad you're okay!" He chirped, his intimidating persona fading away instantly.

Jaemin laughed. Yukhei was like an adorable puppy ninety percent of the time, but when he was protecting those he cared about, he turned into a fierce wolf. But Jaemin had really needed the support. "Nope, so far no one's even mentioned it to me," he explained, as Mr. Park walked in and told them to get their textbooks out. "But I appreciate it, Xuxi. "

Yukhei nodded. "That's what friends are for."

And Jaemin decided that as long as he had friends like Jeno, Renjun, Donghyuck, Jisung, and Chenle to support him, and as long as the world still had people like Yukhei, kind, caring, and respectful, maybe humanity wasn’t doomed as everyone seemed to think it was, and maybe being paralyzed wasn’t all that bad. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yes, if there's anyone wondering, their high school is run by EXO


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone else see the concept pictures for Boom? I'm D Y I NG. Plus their episode on the Idol Room, wow. Boom looks like it's gonna be lit. And their hair, wow. Jaemin looks good as a blond, and Jeno has ALWAYS looked good blond. Renjun's long hair is different, but he looks good, and Chenle's orange hair is amazing. Haechan? Smooth. Also, can I just point out how much Jisungie's grown up? He's so tall and mature looking now.
> 
> On to the Nomin! It's super short this time, but I promise there's a reason for it.

Jaemin met Jeno in the lobby of their school. The older had offered to come pick him up from Mr. Park's class, but Jaemin had insited on pushing himself. What good was having a wheelchair if you can't push yourself in it? If he was going to get pushed around constantly, he might as well just get a transport chair. 

"Hey, Nana!" Jeno greeted, standing up and pushing his dark bangs out of his face. "How was class?"

"Pretty good, actually," He replied, wheeling up to Jeno. "Yukhei offered to beat up anyone who made a big deal of my wheelchair." 

Jeno laughed, a smile forming on his lips. "That was nice of him." 

Jaemin nodded. "Yukhei's such a dork, but he's so nice. He takes great care of me." 

Jeno's smile tightened a little. "Sounds like you like him a lot," He remarked lightly, tone somewhat strained. Jaemin frowned. 

"Well, yeah, I like him. Is that a problem?" He looked up at Jeno, feeling confused. Why was he acting like this? 

"Of course not," Jeno said, tone clipped. "Do you want me to push you, Jaemin?" _Okay, ouch,_ Jaemin thought. That was just cold, using his actual name. 

"No, I can do it myself." Jaemin started to wheel himself out the door. 

Jeno's tone really stung him. He didn't know why Jeno was so upset over Yukhei's offer of looking out for him. Jeno was usually so laid-back, and any offers of help to Jaemin were always appreciated by him. Jeno had always taken care of him and protected him because he was his best friend, so why would someone else offering to do the same thing upset him so much? _Maybe he's jealous,_ his brain supplied helpfully, as Jaemin struggled to get the doors open. Jaemin frowned. Jeno had no reason to be jealous. He technically had no claim to him. 

"Hold on a sec, " Jeno murmured, running up next to him, grabbing the door and pulling it open for him. Jaemin just nodded his thank you, too confused by the thoughts running in his head to properly thank his friend. 

"Why are you so upset?" Jaemin asked as they went down the sidewalk. 

"I'm not," Jeno retorted shortly. "Why would I be upset that Yukhei wants to protect you?" 

"I never mentioned Yukhei, though," Jaemin said softly. Jeno didn't reply. 

"Are you going straight home?" Jeno asked stiffly, when they were at the intersection in front of the school. 

"Should I?" Jaemin asked mildly, looking up at him. He was so confused, why was Jeno acting so jealous? 

"I-" Jeno let out a frustrated sound, shoving his hand up through his hair. "I'm sorry, Jaemin," he said softly, the use of his name again making Jaemin recoil. "I think it's better if you just go home." He looked like he wanted to say more for a second, before making that same annoyed sound and turning on his heel to walk away, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. 

Jaemin stared after him in shock. He was sure that if anyone was watching, they'd be able to see the shock written all over his features. Jeno had just snapped, walking away from Jaemin like it was nothing. And Jeno, probably the most peaceful person on the planet, had just walked away, clenching his fists like he wanted to punch something. Jeno, the boy who held Jaemin through one of his darkest moments, the day his dad died. Jeno, the boy who captured bugs to throw them outside, rather than killing them. Jeno had just crushed his heart. _He'd actually walked away_. Jaemin continued to stare dumbfounded at the traffic light in front of him, anger starting to build up in his veins. 

"Jaemin?" A deep voice called. He craned his neck, trying to see behind him. 

Yukhei was walking down the sidewalk towards him, a frown etched into his face. "What are you doing alone out here?" He asked. 

Jaemin shook his head out. "I was just about to leave," he muttered, glaring down at the ground. 

"Do you want me to walk you home? I can push you if you want?" Yukhei asked, stopping next to him, a worried look on his face. 

"No, it's okay, Yukhei," Jaemin replied tightly, hitting the walk button as the cars passed them. 

"Are you sure?" Yukhei didn't sound convinced. Jaemin sighed. He shouldn't be taking this out on Yukhei. 

"Not really." Jaemin turned to look over at the older boy. "But I don't want to trouble you."

"It's not a problem." Yukhei grinned down at him. "I insist." 

"Okay, then." Jaemin smiled at him, his fight with Jeno sliding to the back of his mind. It was sweet of Yukhei to offer to walk him home. Even if he didn't have to. 

"Lead the way!" Yukhei exclaimed, hands resting on the handles of Jaemin's chair. 

~

Jeno stood at the corner of Main Street, just down the road from Jaemin, watching as Yukhei pushed Jaemin down the street, the latter laughing at something Yukhei had said. Jealously flared up in his body, hot and ugly, his hands clenching tighter, fingernails digging into the palms of his hands so hard he was sure they'd start bleeding. _Jaemin doesn't need you anymore,_ a dark voice said in his head. _Why would he ever want you, when he could have all that?_ With a choked growl forming in his mouth, Jeno turned on his heel, stalking away from the scene in front of him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...yeah. Don't kill me please


	6. Chapter 6

When Jaemin got off the bus the next day, he was surprised not to see Jeno waiting for him. The other boy was usually at school by now, plus he said he would come "pick him up" from the front entrance so Jaemin didn't have to tire his arms out. But, no such luck. Jeno was no where to be seen. 

Jaemin's classes passed rather quickly, and in no time, lunch period had arrived. No one had confronted him about his legs yet, a fact that was still baffling him. He had been so sure that he'd be mobbed by people. Sure, he wasn't a jock (technically), or high school royalty, but he was pretty popular, so not having anyone ask was definitely odd. Shrugging the thought off, Jaemin pushed the doors to the cafeteria open, eternally grateful that the doors had no handle and just swung in either direction on their hinges. 

He rolled over to the lunch counter, quietly accepting his tray from Jongdae with a soft "thank you", before wheeling himself over to their usual table. Jaemin was so happy that he'd been in good shape before his accident, otherwise he didn't think he'd have been able to get around as well as he did now. And his pride wasn't going to let him ask his friends for help. If they offer, he'd accept it, but there was no way in hell that he was going to ask them first. He finished his lunch in silence, mindlessly people-watching and wondering where his friends were. Lunch period was already half over, and it usually didn't take them this long to show up. He pulled out his phone, checking his texts. Luckily, Renjun had texted him. 

_Moomin otaku_

_Sry hyuck and i aren't w u, Nana, smthg came up [11:32]_

_Jen is busy 2 [11:33}_

_Sry <3 [11:33]_

Jaemin stared at the phone screen and frowned. For one, Renjun hardly _ever_ texted in anything other than complete sentences with proper spelling. All the abbreviations and shortcut were weird. Second, it was even weirder that he hadn't told him what had come up. And why it involved Donghyuck, but not Jeno. And third, Jeno still hadn't shown up. He didn't know what he'd done to the older boy the other day, but apparently it had really upset him. _I'll have to fix that,_ he told himself, making a mental note to track Jeno down at student council after school. 

The lunch bell rang, making Jaemin sigh. _Well,_ he thought, _that was a bust._ Frowning again, Jaemin tossed his tray into the trash before waiting for the cafeteria to clear out so he could get through the hallways easier. However, some of the guys seemed to have other plans. 

"Hey, Jaemin!" Someone yelled, running up behind his wheelchair and pushing it forward. "Heard you're a lousy cripple now!" 

"Yeah!" Another one yelled, popping up next to him and grinning viciously. "What's it like, huh? To not be the top person in gym?" This boy shoved him too, making Jaemin's chair spin wildly. He struggled to make it stop, getting a friction burn on the palm of his right hand. _Wow, that hurt like a bitch._

"Wanna take a walk?" Yet another one yelled, right in his ear, shoving his chair into a wall. Jaemin's casts made an ugly sound as they collided with the wall. Jaemin was pissed, but glad that his legs were broken and he couldn't feel them anyway. A fourth voice joined the commotion behind him. 

"Oh wait," the first one teased, grinning down at him. "You can't! Do you want us to call your boyfriend to come push you?" Jaemin clenched his fist next to his hip, right where they couldn't see it, waiting for one of them to come closer to him. In some back part of his mind, he lamented his previous thought about how no one had bothered him. Turns out, they were just waiting for the right moment. 

"He's not my boyfriend, " Jaemin hissed with gritted teeth, glaring up at the three boys. "And I suggest you get your pathetic asses out of here." 

"Hey, Onew," one of them said, punching the first guy's shoulder lightly. "This punk thinks he can tell us what to do." 

"Yeah, Key," said Onew, " I think we should teach him that his words have consequences, don't you think, Taemin?" One of the boys nodded. 

"Let me at him," the tallest one said, the one who had stayed silent up until now. He stalked closer to him, eyeing him like he was a rabbit and the other boy was the wolf. Jaemin clenched his fist harder, ignoring the burn from his injured palm. When he stepped close enough, Jaemin whipped his hand up, putting as much force into it as possible, the punch landing square in the middle of the other boy's solar plexus.

"Oh you are so gonna pay for that, you little cripple," He hissed, doubling over, anger marring his features. Jaemin's mouth betrayed him, letting out a little whimper as he crossed his arms over his head, waiting for a blow. He no longer cared if he looked weak, protecting his head was more important. Instead, he was met with a slap across the side of his head, bending his ear down and making him hiss in pain, curling his body in on itself. 

Blow after blow rained down on him; a slap on the back of his head, an elbow driven into the space between his shoulder blades, a cuff to his ear, all of them painful and relentless. Jaemin whimpered as he felt a trickle of blood run down from his hair, dripping into his eyes. He was so mad and so scared at the same time. He'd never been beat up before, especially not just for existing. 

When two pairs of hands started to grip his arms and pull them away from his head, Jaemin let out a yell, straining to pull his arms back down to protect his head. _If these guys mess up my face,_ he thought, _my mom is going to kill me._ The absurd thought made him laugh hysterically, arms still flailing in the guys' grips. 

"Is he okay?" One of them muttered, loosening his grip on Jaemin's arm. 

"Does it matter?" The other one hissed, prying his arm up behind his head, and yanking Jaemin's torso upright, exposing his chest and face. He grinned wickedly. "It's over now," he said, tone dark. A punch collided with Jaemin's nose. _This feels like deja vu,_ his hysterical brain thought before the world faded to black. 

~

Jaemin woke up with a bright light shining into his eyes and a spring digging into his back. He turned his head over groggily, keeping his eyes closed, trying to get away from the light, before getting hit with a pounding headache, stronger than any one he had ever had before. Grimacing, Jaemin pried his eyes open and was met with a railing on the bed, not unlike those in the hospital. He groaned loudly, the events of the day flooding back into his mind, as he brought his finger up to tentatively poke his nose. It hurt, but not too badly. He ran his finger over the bridge of his nose, feeling for any signs that it might be broken. It didn't seem to be, which he supposed was good, given the blow it had gotten. 

He grabbed the rails of the bed to haul himself upright, a tiny part of his brain lamenting the fact that he needed the help. Jaemin looked at the walls of the room, trying to figure out where he was. His wheelchair was next to the bed, right in the gap between the bars, presumably in case he wanted to leave. While he didn't exactly want to leave due to his headache, Jaemin appreciated the sentiment. There was also a poster with a picture of hands being washed, right about the sink, reading, "Don't be a dope, wash your hands with water and soap!" _Oh yeah,_ Jaemin thought, _this is definitely the nurse's office._

"Hello?" He called out, looking at the door to the nurse's office, where there was a light on, shining through the window. A head popped into the window, glancing over at him, before smiling. A second later, the door opened, a bleached-blond head poking out. 

"Just give me a sec, ok?" The nurse said, smiling. "I gotta finish updating your file." Jaemin nodded. The nurse came out a minute later, walking over to Jaemin's side, an unusual spring in his step. 

"I hope you're doing okay," he said, sitting on the railing at the bottom of the bed, apparently unbothered by the cold metal. "You've got some nasty bruises and swelling, as well as a few cuts on the side of your head." The nurse frowned. "I can't imagine what trouble you got into to get those." 

Jaemin shrugged the question off, attempting a smile, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head. _God,_ he thought, _if this is just from a beating, imagine what being hungover would feel like._

The nurse frowned harder. "I love my job, but I hate having students in here," he continued, patting Jaemin's shin. "I don't like seeing you cuties hurt." Jaemin's lips quirked up at that. The nurse was kinda...affectionate. 

"I'm Jongin, by the way." The nurse -Jongin-, stuck his hand out for Jaemin to shake. He did, feeling a smile bloom across his face. 

"Jaemin." 

"I know," Jongin said, smile slipping a little. "I've heard your name before. You're the top track student, right?" 

Jaemin felt his smile melt away like water, bitterness crawling up his throat. "Were," he corrected, unable to keep the bitterness out of his reply. 

Jongin offered him a sympathetic smile. "I know all about that feeling, kiddo," he told him, standing up and rolling the right leg of his pants up and tugging his shoe off. Jaemin blinked. S _urely he isn't undressing in front of me, right?_ Instead of being met with flesh, though, Jaemin's eyes fell upon metal and plastic. Jongin had a prosthetic leg. His eyes traveled down prosthetic, landing on a curved piece of metal attached to the base of the leg. A spring foot. _Well that explains the bounce in his step._

Jongin laughed at his amazed expression. "What, you didn't think there's other people like you?" He teased, tugging his pants leg back down. 

Jaemin shook his head to say that that wasn't the case. He knew there were people like him, who had been in car accidents and lost more than the person driving said car, but meeting someone like him was so... _different. "_ Can...can I ask how it happened?" Jaemin didn't want to offend him or anything. 

"Oh sure," Jongin said easily. "I got hit by a drunk driver." 

Jaemin blinked. The ease with which he had explained it was baffling. If it was up to him, Jaemin would never talk about his accident with someone, maybe not even Jeno. It was just brought up an awful sense of shame in Jaemin. Why he would be ashamed of something that was completely out of his control, he wasn't sure, but he just was. And it wasn't like he looked down upon people in wheelchairs. He knew they were no different than regular people. But when it was him in the chair...Jaemin wanted nothing more than to disappear. 

"How did you deal with it?" Jaemin whispered, voice cracking as his eyes teared up. "How did you just accept it?"

Jongin thought for a moment, "It took me a while to get used to not feeling the limb there, but I also knew I couldn't just let myself waste away. The accident made it a lot harder for me to walk, let alone dance, but with practice, I managed to get around easily and got back to dancing." He looked at Jaemin and offered him a smile. "It's not easy, but it's possible." 

Jaemin returned the smile hesitantly, wiping a stray tear out from the corner of his eye. "I hate it," he mumbled, another tear sneaking out. 

"I know," Jongin ruffled his hair. "But it gets better." He smiled "Okay, now tell me how you got this beat up," the nurse demanded, propping his head up on his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. Jaemin huffed a little laugh. Jongin beamed. 

After Jaemin finished recounting the incident, Jongin looked annoyed, but not surprised. The nurse didn't say anything, however, just asked Jaemin if he was ready to go home, and helped him into his wheelchair. Jaemin checked his watch and confirmed that it was already pretty late. Student council would have ended an hour ago. _I guess I'll confront Jeno about it tomorrow._

"Do you want me to take you to the entrance?" He offered, feeling a strange sense of attachment to the younger boy. 

"No, I'm okay," Jaemin smiled at the nurse. "Thank you though."

"Of course," Jongin ruffled his hair again. "If you ever need to talk, my door's always open." 

"Thank you." Jaemin wheeled himself out the door, feeling like his mind had been cleared. Talking to Jongin had helped him deal with the weight of his accident, and it had opened his eyes to other people like him. He wasn't alone. And it wasn't something to be ashamed of. Somehow, Jaemin found himself starting to believe that. 

_I'm just me,_ he thought, as he went through the hallway. _And there's nothing to be ashamed of as me._

_I'm just me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to say a few things in this note.  
> 1) I'm so grateful for anyone who has supported this fic, or have given kudos, or just those who have simply read it. It's so fulfilling to write and have other people enjoy it.  
> 2) To anyone who might be struggling with depression or lack of self-esteem, you are perfectly worthy of love and the best person you can be is you. Not someone else. For those with depression, things can get better. And if you choose to, going to a therapist isn't admitting weakness.  
> 3) I refuse to condone bullying, and I think it's a terrible practice. Bullying isn't just physical, it's mental too. Don't suffer alone if you've been bullied. Stand up for yourself, or stand up for others. (And I don't think that SHINee would ever bully someone, but I just needed some older people from SM to play the role, so I'm sorry! )  
> 4) For those who are paralyzed, I am so sorry if I'm not portraying this right. I've done some research on it, but there's some holes in my knowledge. 
> 
> That being said, have a good day, guys <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm genuinely sorry that it took me so long to update. My need to get an education was started again, so I've been pretty stressed out. Unfortunately, 1-2 day updates will be coming to an end shortly. I also have two other on-going fics that I'm working on at the same time, so I'm trying not to let one too long before updating. Please don't think I'm neglecting this one, if I update another one! I still love this fic, I'm just trying to figure out a schedule for updates, so thank you all for just bearing with me. I love you guys! Your comments and kudos make my day!

Jeno was avoiding him. It was official. It'd been two weeks since his fight with Jaemin over Yukhei, and Jaemin hadn't talked to the older boy once. Not even once. No "hi, how are you"s in the hallway, no conversations at lunch. It was like Jeno had never been his friend at all. Which was ridiculous because he had been Jaemin's best friend since they were 13. This avoiding shit had to stop. 

Jaemin had camped out the student council room the next day, after his talk with Jongin, only to have everyone except Jeno come out. When he asked Yerim, one of the girls in the club, where he was, she just shrugged and quickly ran away. Every since day, Jaemin had waited for him, trying to catch his best friend and figure out what was bothering him so much. And, every day, when Jeno never showed up, Jaemin's heart broke a little more. 

Now, two weeks later, Jaemin tried a different tactic. He went to Jeno's house, knocking on the door. When Jaehyun opened the door, he blinked at Jaemin before smiling.   
"Hey, Jaemin-ah!" Jeno's brother said, letting Jaemin in. "How are you?"

"Hello, Jaehyun hyung. I'm doing fine." Jaemin wheeled himself into Jeno's living room, hauling himself out of his chair and onto the couch. He noticed Jaehyun studying him worriedly, but didn't comment on it. 

"I'm good too, just finishing up a project for one of my professors," Jaehyun sat down next to him. "Jeno's not here right now, as you can see, but he'll be home shortly." 

"Yeah, I haven't hung out with him lately, so I wanted to surprise him," Jaemin lied easily. _You're not technically lying,_ his brain reminded him. _You_ haven't _seen him lately and you_ _do actually_ want _to surprise him. Your motives just aren't as innocent as that sounds._ Sometimes, Jaemin decided, I hate my brain. 

"Sounds cool," Jaehyun nodded, standing up awkwardly. "Do you want anything to drink or eat?" 

"Nope, I'm good, hyung." 

"Sounds good." Jaehyun walked towards the steps. "Taeyong's coming over later to pick me up, so just yell up and I'll come down." _So, Taeyong must be his boyfriend,_ Jaemin thought, thinking back to a conversation he'd had with Jeno a few months ago. According to him, they were adorably disgusting 100% of the time. 

"Okay." 

"TV remote's under one of the cushions." Jaehyun smiled at him, before going upstairs. 

Jaemin found it along with a dust-encrusted cheeto puff and sighed. _Jeno better show up soon_ , he thought, clicking on the tv. 

~

Jaemin woke up from his nap when the sound of keys in the front door clinked, before hearing the doorknob turn. He quickly pulled himself upright and stared at the door, waiting. When Jeno walked into his house, his earbuds were in, head bobbing to the music, not registering Jaemin's presence. Jaemin just waited, as Jeno slung his backpack on the ground and walked into the kitchen for something to eat. Stealing himself for what was probably going to be a serious conversation, Jaemin adjusted himself on the couch so that his legs were sprawled across it. For a second, he could have sworn he felt a little spasm in his big toe. 

Jeno finished up his rummaging in the kitchen before walking out into the living room, still listening to music in his headphones. When he saw Jaemin, however, he froze. 

"Jaemin," he said, sliding the headphones off his head, staring at the younger boy. "What are you doing here?" 

"I came to see you," Jaemin replied, looking his best friend right in the eyes. "I missed you." 

Jeno visibly swallowed, before taking a small, hesitant step toward Jaemin. "I-", he mumbled, voice cracking and eyes sliding down to the floor. "Why?" He asked, voice a little bit more stable. 

"I haven't seen you in two weeks." Jaemin's heart was pounding in his chest, now that Jeno was here. Before, he'd been able to keep calm. He'd thought through the whole conversation in his head and how he was going to confront him about it. Now, though, that train of thought had completely disappeared, once he saw just how tired Jeno looked. 

The older boy had big, dark purple bruises under his eyes, evidence of his lack of sleep. His face was pale and ashy, and he looked skinnier. His hair was an absolute mess, sticking up in every which direction, his glasses skewed sideways on his nose. All in all, he looked nothing like Jaemin's Jeno. Nothing like him at all. 

"I know," Jeno murmured, slowly taking a seat next to Jaemin's feet, sitting on the very edge of the couch. 

"Why were you avoiding me?" 

"I wasn't." The outright denial made Jaemin angry. Jeno had been avoiding him, it was one of the most obvious things in the world. Renjun had even commented on it, one day at lunch, asking why Jeno hadn't been sitting with them lately, instead, sitting with some of his friends from a different class that he had known for half the time he'd known them. 

"Jeno," Jaemin huffed, staring the older boy right in the eyes. "Can we skip the lying and denial and just get to the why? I know you were ignoring me. It was so obvious. Just tell me why." Jeno's face clouded with guilt for a second before he nodded. "I want my best friend back," Jaemin added quietly, but Jeno stiffened a little, so he knew he had heard him. 

"Okay, yes I was ignoring you," Jeno started, frowning. "But, it wasn't because you did anything wrong. I was jealous of Yukhei, just like you accused me of, and I was tired of being asked by other people what was up with you." Jeno paused to let out a loud sigh. "I know that's selfish of me and it's so rude, considering everything that's happened to you and that you can't even _walk,_ but I just couldn't help it. Everyone was asking me about you and prying into your business because they were too scared to ask you. And it just made me mad. So I took it out on you. I'm sorry, Nana." Jeno looked absolutely devastated. "Trust me, I hate myself for it. I beat myself up for it endlessly. I felt horrible for wanting them to just go ask you, I know how much you were dreading it, but I just couldn't stand doing it for you, either. I still think it's my fault that you got hurt." 

Jaemin opened his mouth to tell Jeno that _it was okay, of course it was, yes, i understand, don't hate yourself_ , but Jeno rested his hand on Jaemin's knee, making him freeze in his tracks and close his mouth. 

"I was so jealous of Yukhei, too, for wanting to protect you." The very admission looked like it pained Jeno to say. "I hated that he barely knew you and was offering you protection that should have been the first thing that _I_ should have offered. I've been your best friend for so many years, ever since your dad died, and I'd always been there for you. The prospect of someone else doing it better just made me really insecure." Jeno's voice cracked on the last word, making Jaemin's heart hurt for him. "I'm so insecure and I absolutely hate it," Jeno continued. "I want to protect you and care for you, especially since this whole thing is my fault," he whispered, a tear streaking down his cheek. 

"I know I was wrong, Nana. I just couldn't stop myself. It felt like something had just taken control of my body. Then I saw you with Yukhei, happy and laughing, and just didn't know what to do. I thought you were going to replace me with him. And why wouldn't you? He's handsomer, nicer, stronger, kinder, funnier. He's everything you could ever want in a boy-" he coughed, "best friend." Jaemin just waited for Jeno to continue. 

"I'm sorry, Nana. I shouldn't have yelled at you that day, or been jealous, or avoided you. I just didn't want to see you happy with him, which is a horrible thing to say, I know. I'm a terrible person. But I just couldn't help it. So, I'm sorry, Nana. I understand if you don't want me to be your friend anymore." Jaemin's eyes widened to a comical size, his heart skipping a beat. 

"Just tell me now," Jeno continued, apparently oblivious to Jaemin's internal pain, " I can have Jaehyun drive you home. You don't have to see me ever again, if you don't want. I won't even eat lunch with you, Injun, and Hyuckie. I'll stay away from you guys." More tears dripped down Jeno's cheeks. "Just say that words and I'm gone," he mumbled, voice giving out. 

Jaemin stared at him in absolute shock. How could Jeno think he wanted him gone? How could he think that he was a terrible person? How could he think that he was the cause of his accident? 

"Jaemin..." Even Jeno's voice sounded broken. Jaemin just stared at him. 

"Come here," he said slowly, opening his arms. Jeno practically dove forward, lying next to Jaemin, tucked into his arms. 

"I'm so sorry," he babbled. "I won't do that again, I'm so sorry, Nana." 

"It's okay," Jaemin soothed. Before, he had been absolutely pissed at Jeno; there had been no other way to look at it. But he also understood. Jeno's dad used to tell him, when they were little, that he would always be worthless. That he would never amount to anything. He knew that it had destroyed Jeno's confidence. Jeno's dad had verbally abused him for so many years, almost every day. And Jaemin knew this because he walked in on it, one day. The words had haunted him for an entire year. 

"I let my dad get to me," Jeno mumbled into his neck, confirming Jaemin's previous train of thought. "I let him into my head again and he just wouldn't go away." 

Jaemin understood that too. He let his negative thoughts cloud his mind for all 17 days, 13 hours, and 43 minutes that he'd been in the hospital. And then he'd let them cloud him for even longer. If he was being truly honest with himself, he still hadn't completely rid himself of those thoughts. But he understood. He knew how Jeno's dad had been before he'd left them. Before he'd left Jaehyun to be the new head of household. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jaemin asked, petting Jeno's fluffy hair, trying to tame it a little. 

"Not yet." One of Jeno's tears dripped onto Jaemin's collarbone, making him grimace. 

"Don't cry, Jen," he murmured, his thumb tracing the curve of Jeno's cheekbone. 

"I'm trying!" Jeno protested, a soft laugh peeling through with it. "I can't stop!" Jaemin just laughed and pulled him closer to his body. 

"I missed you," He murmured

"I missed you too." 

"And Jen?" Jeno hummed. "I won't ever replace you." 

"Okay." 

~

Once his friendship with Jeno was restored, the school year seemed to fly by, the days all blending together, and in no time, the school year was half over, and all of his friends were studying for midterms. 

"I hate midterm season," Donghyuck griped, tossing his calculus notes onto the table with a loud bang and flopping his head back. "It's so stupid. Who cares if we learned anything in the first half of the year? Finals is what should matter!" Jaemin wholeheartedly agreed with him. 

" "I know you might not believe it right now, but midterms are part of the key to success, come finals. You have to not give up on studying, in order to further your future dreams,'" Jeno parroted, dutifully. 

"You sound like Dr. Junmyeon," Jaemin griped. Donghyuck just groaned louder. Jeno laughed. 

"If you guys would actually take decent notes for once, you might be able to study better," Renjun remarked mildly, looking up from his third history notebook, all three of them completely filled with his neat, cramped handwriting. 

"I'm sorry that Korean history is hella boring!" Jaemin retorted hotly. 

"I thought you liked Mr. Park?" Jeno commented, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. Jaemin's heart cooed at the adorableness that was Lee Jeno. 

"I like Mr. Park just fine," Jaemin replied, glaring at his untouched history textbook with a passion. "I just think that history is beyond boring." 

"Fair enough," Jeno replied, as Donghyuck nodded vehemently.

"Yes, thank you, Jaemin," Donghyuck agreed, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "At least we know you're not completely hopeless." Jaemin gasped in outrage. 

"I'm not useless!" He protested, shooting his best glare at Donghyuck, who just cooed at him. 

"Cute." 

"I'm not!" 

"Uh huh." 

"I am going to kill you, Lee Donghyuck," Jaemin hissed, throwing his English textbook to the ground and chasing Donghyuck, who was already running away. 

"I'd like to see you try!" 

If the screaming, crashing, and pleading for mercy disturbed Jeno and Renjun from studying dutifully, neither of them commented on it. 

~

Luckily for Jaemin and Donghyuck, their teachers didn't hate them nearly as much as the test reviews suggested, as the actual midterms were way easier than the reviews. Jaemin got two As, two Bs, and a C, so he was feeling pretty good about himself. He'd even done better than Jeno in English, who just griped about it, saying, "Well english sucks ass anyway." Jaemin's brain retorted with a lovely comment about Jeno's ass, which Jaemin chose to ignore. 

Jaemin had just finished up discussing his history midterm grade with Mr. Park, when a text came through on his phone. 

_**♥** Acorn **♥**_

_Heyyyyyyyyy [3:20]_

_Injunnie, Hyuckie and I were gonna get ice cream after school to celebrate finals being over [3:20]_

_Wanna come? [3:21]_

ヾ（＾ヮ＾)ﾉ [3:21]

To: _**♥** Acorn **♥**_

 _omw_ （＾ω＾） _[3:22]_

When Jaemin got to the ice cream store and saw Renjun and Donghyuck bickering in the window, with Jeno trying to appease both of them, he smiled. He loved his insane friends. He was about to go in when he was stopped by a touch on his elbow. He turned around to see a little girl studying him quizzically. 

"Oppa, why are you in a wheelchair?" She asked, her voice high and sweet. Jaemin figured she was only three or four years old. 

" I was in a car accident," Jaemin told her, smiling faintly. 

"Oh," she said, blinking, hugging her stuffed rabbit closer to her chest. "I'm sorry, oppa!" 

Jaemin chuckled. "Thank you." 

"My name's Eunbi!" She hugged her bunny, twisting back and forth. "What's your name?" 

"Jaemin." 

"Ooh, I like that!" Eunbi giggled, high and sweet. Jaemin's heart almost exploded with cuteness. He wanted a little sister so badly...

"I like it too," He told her, ruffling her hair. 

"Did it hurt?" She asked suddenly, wide eyes blinking at him. 

"Did what hurt?" 

"The accident. When you got hurt." 

"Oh," Jaemin paused for a minute. "I didn't really feel it. I was just mad afterwards." 

Eunbi frowned. "Don't be mad! I think it's cool that you didn't give up!" She giggled. "Daddy always says not giving up is the only way to further your dreams." Jaemin froze. _That sentence sounded familiar..._

"Those are some wise words," Jaemin told her, smiling at the little girl. "Your dad must be a wise man." 

"I'm glad you think so, Jaemin," Dr. Junmyeon said, walking to stand next to him. When Jaemin's jaw dropped, Eunbi giggled, while his principal just smiled. 

"Sorry for bothering you, Eunbi has a tendency to wander away," Dr. Junmyeon apologized, grabbing his daughter's hand. "Come on, sweetheart, let's go." 

Eunbi pouted for a minute, before letting her dad take her away. " Bye, Jaemin oppa!" She called, waving a little hand at him. Jaemin sat there shellshocked for a minute, before laughing. He hadn't known Dr. Junmyeon had had a kid. And that said kid was an adorable daughter. He realized, belatedly, that his heart hadn't lurched when Eunbi had asked about his wheelchair. _Progress,_ he thought happily, as he hit the handicapped button to get into the ice cream shop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone catch my little hint of foreshadowing? ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, the love I've gotten for this fic is amazing. I love this story line and it's wonderful to read the comments on this. I'm starting to get a rhythm for updating my works, so this should get a little better from here on out.
> 
> Also, I just realized that I made Jaemin (and by extension Hyuck, Injun, and Jeno) 18, but Yukhei and Mark are also still in HS with them. That was a mistake. So just suspend your disbelief and think that they’re just old juniors, ok? Then Chensung can be underclassmen and Yukhei and Mark are seniors. Don’t question the madness XD. Oh and Jungwoo and his husband (guesses on who?? ;)) are aged up too lol. I’m thinking somewhere around 28, since he’s a doctor with medical school and residency and all. Unless otherwise specified, I think the rest of NCT just follows the age gap pattern.
> 
> Enjoy this monster of a chapter! (Not really, but it's long for me) It's like 3.7k

Jaemin woke up in the middle of the night, his legs spasming and jerking around like crazy. He gritted his teeth together, blindly grasping around his room for his discarded shirt. When he found it, Jaemin balled it up and shoved it in his mouth, muffling the terrified scream that had been building in his chest. He didn’t know what was going on and it was terrifying. Jaemin couldn't feel anything, but his legs were moving like they were possessed. He scrambled for the flashlight app on his phone, his old t-shirt still stuffed in his mouth. 

When he finally got it on, Jaemin stared down at his legs in shock, eyes wide. They were jerking every which way, his feet thrashing around in their casts. Terrified, not knowing what else to do, Jaemin blindly grabbed at his legs, trying to keep them still. After five more minutes, they quit moving, lying stiff on the bed. Jaemin nearly sobbed in relief, realizing that there were tears running down his cheeks. _What’s happening to me?_

~

The spasms continued for another week, before Jaemin told someone about them. He’d agonized over it for a while, he’d even considered texting Jeno the first night it had happened, before deciding to tell Jungwoo, his doctor, at physical therapy. The youngest of his three doctors had grown on him in the past month that he’d been injured. Now, Jaemin understood how beneficial the training could be. And now, he needed Jungwoo to tell him whether or not the spasms were good/normal. 

"Well," Jungwoo said, poking at Jaemin's leg experimentally, "I don't think there's anything wrong with them." The doctor shoved his caramel bangs out of his face and smiled at Jaemin. 

"Are spasms normal then?" Jaemin asked incredulously, desperately trying not to let the sarcasm slip out. 

"If you have spastic paralysis, then yes." Jungwoo spun around in his rolling chair, setting himself up at his desk. It was covered in pictures of him and another guy who Jaemin thought kind of resembled a bunny. When he saw a picture of Jungwoo and the guy in tuxedos at an altar, he turned his head away, cheeks burning. It was kind of nice to see someone being so unabashed about liking a guy, marrying one, even. 

Jungwoo cleared his throat, making Jaemin whip his head towards him. When he looked back over at the desk, Jungwoo was turning the computer so Jaemin could see the screen. He pulled up Jaemin's patient profile, scrolling through his personal information and to his diagnosis and condition. "And it appears you could," he added, pointing at a certain line. Jaemin rolled closer to read the screen. 

_Current condition: paraplegia._ _Patient may have paralysis of the spastic sort. Symptoms unclear._

"So," Jaemin asked, scratching his head confusedly. "What exactly is spastic paralysis?" 

Jungwoo turned around again and leveled him with a look. "It really not something you see in accident victims," He told Jaemin, resting his hands on his knees and frowning thoughtfully. "It's typically a hereditary affliction that manifests when you're in your mid-adulthood. To see it in you is highly unusual." He studied the younger boy. "Usually, it's a symptom of the paralysis setting in, for hereditary cases, and then the patients would move to wheelchairs. For someone already in a wheelchair...it might be a good sign." A good sign of what, though, Jungwoo didn't elaborate on. 

Jaemin frowned right back at him. "Does this mean anything for my treatment?" Him and his mom couldn't afford much more medical bills. They were just lucky their insurance was so good. 

"Nope!" Jungwoo smiled at him. "It shouldn't change anything. We'll just have to keep an eye on it." 

"Okay." Jaemin released the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. 

"Well, now that that's taken care of," Jungwoo mused, "Is there any fun gossip at your high school?" He grinned at Jaemin. Jaemin just blinked at him. 

"Aren't you supposed to be my doctor?" He questioned, trailing off at the end. 

Jungwoo shrugged. "I like to know my patients." When Jaemin raised an eyebrow at him, he laughed. "I'm also just nosy." Jaemin laughed, before actually considering it. When his eyes wandered to the picture of the doctor and his husband, Jaemin made up his mind. 

"Well you see," he began, making Jungwoo lean forward, "There's this guy I really like..." 

~

Jaemin's legs spasmed for another week before it happened with any of his friends around. When Jeno was pushing him to the cafeteria for lunch (the older insisted it was the least he could do), Jaemin felt the tell-tale signs of his leg jerking. Gasping, he desperately tried to tug his hoodie off to cover his legs before Jeno could notice. Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough. 

"Holy shit!" Jeno shrieked, stopping Jaemin's wheelchair with a jarring jolt. "What the hell is going on with your legs?!"

"Just-hold on-" Jaemin muttered, finally tossing his hoodie over his legs, grimacing at the shocked look on Jeno's face, taking it as a look of disgust. "I'm sorry you had to see that." 

"No no no no no," Jeno rushed, sputtering. "I don't want apologies, I want an explanation. What the _hell_ was that?" Jaemin's upper body finally relaxed, his legs stopping in their convulsions. 

"Spasms," Jaemin murmured, sliding his gloved hands down to the wheels of his chair and started to push himself to the cafeteria, avoiding looking at Jeno's face. He wasn't sure he'd want to see the horror written all over it. "Side effect of the paralysis." Jeno ran after him, slowing his pace to walk comfortably next to Jaemin. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked, cocking his head curiously to the side, almost like a puppy. 

"Didn't want you to freak out," Jaemin muttered, glaring at the cafeteria doors, the only ones in the school that didn't push open, but pulled from the outside and pushed out. Jeno seemed to understand the struggle going on in his head and just casually walked forward, opening the door without saying anything. Jaemin was once again thankful for the kind, considerate angel that was Lee Jeno. 

"You should have told me though," Jeno replied, walking in next to Jaemin. "I wouldn't have freaked out." Jaemin leveled him with a look dripping in skepticism. Jeno laughed, his eyes becoming the cute little half-moons that Jaemin loved. 

"Okay, maybe I would have freaked out," Jeno relented, pouting adorably. "But I could have provided moral support!" He really did look like a puppy. Albeit a kicked one, right now, with the sad look he was giving Jaemin. 

"I'm sorry," Jaemin relented. He just hadn't wanted to worry Jeno. 

"It's fine. I forgive you," Jeno replied. "Just tell me next time, okay?"

"Yup." 

"You know how you can pay me back?" Jeno said, eyes lighting up mischievously. 

"How?" 

"Kiss me." Jaemin's heart skipped a beat. Then another. And another. Was his heart even beating at all? Jaemin seriously wasn't sure. Jeno wanted a kiss from him. An actual kiss. Like, a kiss. From Jaemin. His best friend. His best friend wanted a kiss from Jaemin. _Lee Jeno wanted a kiss from Na Jaemin._ Was he dreaming? Jaemin had to be dreaming. His brain was running in constant circles. 

"W-what?" Jaemin stuttered. Jeno blushed lightly. 

"Kiss me," he repeated. "To apologize for not telling me about the spasms." Jaemin's brain short circuited again. "B-but," he stuttered again, "We're at school!" His hands flew up to cover his mouth, regretting the nervous reflex his brain had created to _deny, deny, deny._

Jaemin could have swore Jeno looked disappointed for a second, before his usual expression flooded back over it, eyes curving up into an eye smile. "Then you'll just have to pay me later!" Jeno winked, before running over to the lunch counter to get their ramen. 

Jaemin used the time to calm his racing heart. _Had Jeno really just asked him for a kiss? Could his crush actually be requited?_

“Hey Nana!” Yukhei yelled, jogging up to where Jaemin was still sitting. “Watcha doin’?” 

Jaemin blinked a few times, letting the world come back into focus. “Oh, uh, just thinking,” he replied lamely, belatedly realizing that he’d just been parked in the middle of the cafeteria for who knows how long. _Jeno isn’t back yet_ , his brain supplied helpfully, _s_ _o it couldn’t have been too long._

“About?” 

“Er...things.” _Jeno, his lips, kissing him._

“Specific,” Yukhei teased, laughing.

“Oh shut up,” Jaemin chuckled back, regaining his senses and starting towards Jeno, Renjun, Donghyuck, and his regular table. To his surprise, both of his fellow juniors had actually beat him there and were chatting about god knows what. 

Jeno walked up next to the table, holding two bowls of ramen. Jaemin saw him shoot a questioning glance at Yukhei before smiling. 

“Hey Yukhei!” He said. “Wanna come sit with us?” 

“Really?” Yukhei’s face lit up, the tall boy starting to tremble with joy.

“Yeah.” Jeno quickly set the bowls down, murmuring a greeting to Hyuck and Injun, before plopping down on the seat at the end of the table, right next to where Jaemin sat. 

“Who’s this?” Donghyuck drawled, eyeing Yukhei like he was a mouse for the younger to play with. 

“Wong Yukhei!” The boy in question chirped, sticking his hand out for Donghyuck to shake. “I’m from China, but I transferred here.” 

“I’m Donghyuck. I’ve heard your name. You’re on the basketball team, right?” When Yukhei nodded, Donghyuck smiled. “Mark might have mentioned me?” 

“Oh yeah! He always talks about you!” Yukhei agreed. He smiled and whispered conspiratorially, “He likes to talk about how pretty you are.” Donghyuck blushed, which, Jaemin noted, only happend when Mark was mentioned. 

“Wait wait wait wait wait,” Renjun interjected, unintentionally saving Donghyuck’s ass from the inevitable teasing that was starting to take shape in Jeno’s eyes. “You’re from China?!” Renjun gasped, switching to what Jaemin assumed was Mandarin. 

Yukhei scratched his head. “Yeah but I grew up in Hong Kong so I speak Cantonese,” he replied in stilted Mandarin. 

“Oh.” Renjun deflated a little. “That’s okay! It’s nice to find another Chinese. I lived in Jilin." Renjun paused for a second. "Oh and Chenle! He's Chinese too; he’s from Shanghai.” 

“How old is he?” 

Renjun blinked. “I actually don’t know, but he’s a sophomore.” 

“Oh cool!” Yukhei beamed at Renjun, making him blush. Jaemin was beginning to suspect that it was more than just their shared homeland attracting Renjun to his deskmate. _I really needed to pay more attention to my friends’ love lives,_ he decided.

Under the table, Jeno’s fingers brushed over the top of his hand, a silent question. Jaemin laced their fingers together, continuing to eat his food. It wasn’t exactly unusual for them to hold hands; they’d been doing it since they were little. It was their silent ‘I’m here for you’ gesture of comfort. 

_Thank you_ , Jaemin mouthed at Jeno, when no one was looking.

_For?_ Jeno’s eyebrows were raised. 

_Being nice to Yukhei._

Jeno just flashed him a thumbs up, eyes twinkling happily.

When Chenle and Jisung actually sat with them at their table, though, Jaemin steeled himself for a truly chaotic lunch. The underclassmen typically sat with their other friends and wrecked their havoc over there. There was a good reason as to why the juniors sat far away from the Chensung duo. Speaking of which, Jaemin felt a headache already starting. 

“Hey hyungie!” Chenle screeched, turning his back to Jisung, who was trying to steal some of the pocky he had. 

“Sup Nana,” Jisung greeted, finally nagging one of the chocolate-coated cookies from his best friend. The pair started wrestling over them, nearly knocking Jeno’s ramen off the table. 

“Honorifics,” Mark chided, sitting down next to Donghyuck, making the younger boy blush again, before he whacked Mark’s arm to cover it up, making the older whine. 

“What was that for?!” 

Jaemin was really starting to think the world was ending. Donghyuck had blushed twice, Renjun might actually be into someone, Chensung sat with them, then Mark-Nerd-Of-The-Century-Lee actually left his cave in the library to join them, and Jeno was nice to Yukhei. Not that that was surprising. Jeno was usually nice. But seeing him make an effort with Yukhei was sweet. 

_You forgot something_ , his brain pointed out, making him frown. _What did I forget?_

He did realize he’d said it out loud until Jeno replied casually with “my kiss”. The table fell pin-drop silent. 

Then all hell broke loose. 

“What?!” Chenle screeched, griping Jisung’s arm, accidentally giving up his box of pocky in the process, which the youngest happily started munching on. 

“Nomin is finally happening!” Donghyuck yelled, shaking Mark violently. Jaemin was wondering if maybe they needed to check him later for damage, from the way he just flopped around in Donghyuck’s hold. The older had been subject to Donghyuck’s clinginess countless times, as well as his random mood swings. Who knew how much damage there could be? Maybe you could insure people? He’d have to look into that. 

Renjun’s “about time, bitches,” broke through his musings of insuring one Mark Lee, while Yukhei’s whispered, “I thought they were already dating?” reached his ears.

Mark just blinked at them. “I’m confused.” 

“Lee Jeno,” Jaemin hissed into Jeno’s ear, pinching the older’s thigh. “I am going to kill you.” 

“No I think you mean kiss,” Jeno replied happily. “You double the s not the L. Kiss, not kill.” He puckered his lips, first, nearly making Jaemin faint, before miming stabbing himself in the chest. 

“Why are you so intent on this?” Jaemin groaned, desperately trying to keep their conversation low enough so that Renjun’s acute hearing couldn't pick it up. 

“Just to see you squirm.” 

“Later, Jeno,” he hissed. When Jeno just cocked his head to the side again, he groaned. “Later, Jen, if it matters to you so much. Read my lips: L-A-T-E-R.” His voice slowly rose with each word, and when the whole table started squealing again, he knew he’d fucked up. 

“I hate all of you,” he hissed. 

“I love you, Nana!” Jeno cooed back, smiling his eye smile. Jaemin’s heart just decided to combust. _That’s it, I’m dead now,_ he thought. How could he live with the cuteness that was Lee Jeno? It was simply impossible. 

“We are so having a party tonight,” Donghyuck announced, beaming. “We have to witness the Nomin kiss.”

Jaemin yelped, while Jeno just grinned. “Where?” He asked 

“Mark’s House!” Donghyuck chirped, making Mark whip his head around to stare at the other boy. 

“What?!” 

“Party. At your house. With all of us,” Donghyuck repeated slowly, overly annunciating each word.

Mark just groaned louder, as Chenle screeched, Yukhei whooped, Jeno and Hyuck beamed, high fiving. Renjun and Jisung just smiled devilishly, while Jaemin let his head bang forward onto the table. 

“I need new friends.” 

~

After explaining to his mom over a quick dinner of bulgogi that he was going to a party (yes, it was at mark’s house, no there wouldn't be alcohol) Jaemin found himself staring down the steps in front of Mark’s house, feeling utterly defeated. He’d forgotten that the older had steps to get up to the porch. 

Just as he was debating whether or not to call Jeno to beg him to help him up, Johnny, Mark’s older brother, walked up the path, humming to an EXO song. When he saw Jaemin, he smiled and jogged over.

“Hey!” He greeted, patting him on the back. “Sup man! I haven’t seen you in a while!” He frowned at the wheelchair. “Oh wow, that’s rough.” He smiled sympathetically. “Mark told me about that. How’s it feel?” 

Jaemin cracked a little sarcastic smile. “It doesn’t.” 

“Oof,” Johnny replied, chuckling. “Sorry, I didn’t think about that.” 

“It’s fine.” Jaemin was happy to note that it _was_ fine. His heart hadn’t lurched at all. Jaemin smiled a genuine smile back at him. “How’s college?” 

“Oh it’s great. I’ve got a boyfriend and everything. He's from Thailand.” 

“Sweet.” 

“How’s it going with you and Jeno?” 

“What?” Jaemin sputtered. What was it with people and assuming he and Jeno were dating?!

“You know, your boyfriend?” Jaemin just blinked at him. “I take it that Hyuckie lied about that?” 

“Yeah.” Jaemin made a mental note that he now had to kill Hyuck twice: once for this damn party and again for telling Johnny that Jeno was his boyfriend. Now, in no time, that news was gonna make its way around to Taeil (Jisung’s brother), who would tell Sicheng (Renjun’s cousin), who’d tell his boyfriend, Yuta, who’d tell Taeyong, who, of course, would then tell Jaehyun, meaning the information would make it to Jeno. And Jaemin couldn’t have that. 

Johnny just smiled at him. "You sure it's just a lie?" He teased. 

"Positive." Nope, no way in hell he was admitting anything to Johnny. Gossip was the older group's forte. 

"Interesting." If Johnny saw through his lie, he didn’t mention it. "Oh!" The older suddenly exclaimed, making Jaemin jump. "Did you need help getting up there?" He asked, looking guilty. "I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about that!" Johnny studied Jaemin expectantly.

Jaemin actually didn't even consider his answer. "Yes please," he replied, shocking himself. He was so used to being independent that having to rely on others was still really hard for him. He didn't even want to consider what Johnny was going to have to do to get him up there. 

"Okay, hold on." Johnny studied him for a second. "Let me go open the door so I can carry you in." Jaemin's face flushed. Carrying. Right. 

When Johnny came back down, he flashed Jaemin a grin. "I didn't know I'd be helping any damsels in distress today." 

"Shut up." Jaemin looped his arms around Johnny's neck and let him carry him up the stairs bridal style, face burning with shame the entire time. Once the older had sat him down on the couch comfortably, he went back to get his wheelchair. 

Jaemin looked around Mark's house. Donghyuck really wasn't kidding about throwing his little party. The house was decorated with blue and white fairy lights strung up around the house, as well as flashing lights from Donghyuck's portable disco ball. Mark's living room was transformed into the dance floor, the old, leather couch being the only thing in the same spot. Jisung's beloved bluetooth speakers were propped up on the table, blasting out dance music. _Don't be afraid, love is the way,_ the song sang. _Shawty I got it! You can call me monster~_

Screaming and dolphin shrieking was coming from Mark's bedroom, so Jaemin assumed Chenle was already here. He was about to text Jeno to ask where he was, having not seen his shoes at the door, when he walked in with Johnny, helping him carry the wheelchair up. Jaemin's mouth went dry.

Jeno's arms were flexed, strained from bearing the weight of the chair. He was clad in a white tank top and black skinny jeans, making Jaemin nearly faint from how they highlighted his thighs. Really, Jaemin was just had the hots for Lee Jeno. Honestly, could you blame him? Jeno's jawline was chiseled from marble, his arms were toned with muscle, his thighs were insane, his face was flawless, and his personality was to die for. 

Jaemin just couldn't handle how sweet and caring Jeno was. The older would drop everything to help you if you ever needed it, and he was the type of person to help an elderly lady across the street, even if he was running late. Jeno was always attuned to everyone's moods, knowing exactly what to do to cheer all of them up. Donghyuck loved loudly, while Renjun kept his affection quiter. Chenle was always cuddly, Mark was always awkward, and Jisung was like Renjun, always loving them silently. But Jeno? Jeno loved brightly but kindly. He never let you doubt it, but he never was too loud about it. To Jaemin, it was the perfect kind of love. 

"Why are you staring at me?" Jeno asked, waving a hand in front of Jaemin's face. Jaemin blinked stupidly, grasping at his brain cells to focus. Johnny just winked at him, before running up the stairs. 

"I'm not." 

"If you say so." Jeno smiled at him. "I brought your wheelchair!" He gestured to the metal contraption. "It's kinda heavy, " he added, frowning at it cutely. He swooped his black hair up away from his face. "Want to go join everyone else?" 

"Yeah." Jaemin tugged the wheelchair over to him, trying to brace it against the couch for support. Jeno, ever the observant one, noticed what he was doing, and leaned against the chair, ensuring that it wasn't going to move. Jaemin smiled his thank you at him, before pushing himself off the couch and into his wheelchair. He silently thanked all of his hours at the gym for making him strong enough to handle himself. 

"Hey Nana?" Jeno asked, before Jaemin could take off. 

"Yeah?" 

"You don't have to kiss me if you don't want to. It was just a joke." Jeno's voice softened, as he looked at the younger. _Didn't want to? Was he kidding?_

"No, it's okay!" Jaemin protested. "I want to!" When Jeno's face flushed, he backtracked wildly. "I know it's a joke!" Damn, Jaemin hated his brain sometimes. His brain to mouth filter never seemed to work properly around Jeno. 

"What?" Jeno was holding his breath. Jaemin was really starting to wonder if maybe his crush on his best friend wasn't as unrequited as he'd thought. 

"Come here." Jaemin tugged on Jeno's shirt, pulling him down towards him. Jeno plopped onto the couch in front of him, eyes wide and surprised. Jaemin cupped his face in his hands, eyes staring into Jeno's. _God, I love this boy,_ he thought. _He's just so damn beautiful and sweet._ Jaemin couldn't really pinpoint the moment he decided that his feelings for Jeno were anything but platonic, but now, he was absolutely sure that the boy in front of him was his crush. Maybe even something more. He'd always stood beside him, always there when Jaemin needed him. Jaemin had liked him the moment he'd met him, had wanted to be friends with the small, dorky boy from Incheon. He never would have imagined that that sweet, glasses-wearing teenager would be his best friend, five years later. 

Making up his mind, Jaemin tipped his head to the side, slowly leaning forward. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I’m not gonna lie. I had a very different plan for this chapter. But the comments celebrating that "nomin finally got their shit together" guilted me into changing my original plan. Originally, someone was going to interupt them and there'd be no kiss. But I changed my mind. I’m not entirely satisfied with this, so I might go back and add a few sentences/paragraphs to give it more depth. And this is unbeta-ed, you guys know the drill.

Kissing Jeno was like simultaneously drowning and being saved. The sensation was purely indescribable. It was simply magical. 

Jeno's lips were warm and soft against Jaemin's own, nice and pliable. Their lips fit together like puzzle pieces, with Jeno's bottom lip caught between Jaemin's. It had barely been five seconds before Jaemin pulled back, but it had been long enough for him to feel a slight pressure against his own lips. _Jeno had kissed him back!_ Jaemin's brain was going into overdrive, screaming and exploding. 

"I meant on the cheek," Jeno murmured, his lips brushing Jaemin's again. It took all of his self control to not surge forward and kiss the older boy. 

"Whoops." Jaemin rested his forehead with Jeno's, the position highly intimate, feeling his breath come in small puffs against Jaemin's lips. He was still cupping Jeno's face, his lips tingling ever so slightly. 

To absolutely no one's surprise, a camera shutter went off before shrieking ensued. 

"THEY FINALLY KISSED!” Chenle screamed, jumping up and down and running around Mark's house like a maniac. Jisung caught him and spun him around in a circle, laughing and smiling too. 

"It's about time," Renjun remarked, staring at the pair judgementally. 

"Wait so you weren’t kidding?" Yukhei asked. "They’re actually not dating?" Renjun just facepalmed. Jaemin laughed, pulling away from Jeno and sitting back in his chair. He still couldn’t believe he'd just kissed Jeno. His best friend, his crush. And that Jeno might have kissed him back. Suddenly, he was scared. What was this going to do to their relationship? To their group's dynamic? 

"Did you get it?" Donghyuck asked, poking Mark's cheek. The oldest was holding a digital camera, frowning at it. 

"I don’t know." Mark looked confused. "I can’t find the camera roll to check!" Donghyuck groaned.

"Oh just give it to me, grandpa!"

"Hey!" Mark yelled. "I’m not a grandpa! I'm like a year older than you!" 

"You better not have forgotten to take it," Donghyuck hissed, completely ignoring him, trying to get a look at the screen. "I need that as blackmail!" Jeno chuckled, across from Jaemin. 

"I’m sorry I don’t know how they work!"

"Then why did you take the camera!? You could have given it to Jisung!"

"You gave it to me and told me to take it or you'll, and I quote, 'murder me in my sleep and throw me in the Han River for the fish to eat'!"

"I did not!" Donghyuck tried to wrestle the camera from Mark. 

"You did, Hyuckie! I heard it!" Mark defended, laughing. 

"He's right." Renjun was settled on the couch next to Jeno, scrolling through his social media, looking unperturbed by the entire scene unfolding around him. Jaemin couldn’t say the same. He was honestly kinda confused. 

"How did you know that was when we were gonna kiss, though?" He asked, as Mark and Donghyuck continued to bicker. 

"We didn’t!" Chenle chirped cheerfully, still bundled up in Jisung's arms. "Xuxi and I just kept watch until it looked like you might." Jaemin groaned, hiding his face in his hands. 

"You guys couldn’t have just, I don’t know, NOT taken a picture?" Jeno suggested, laughing. Jaemin was amazed by his lack of shame. _Frankly, it looked like Jeno hadn’t even cared_ , he thought. _Wait no, he had to care, right? It was a kiss, after all. And one that he'd asked for. And-OH MY GOD WAS I JENO'S FIRST KISS?!_ Jaemin's brain dissolved into what Donghyuck would call 'gay-panic'. 

"Where's the fun in that?" Donghyuck asked, finally wrenching the camera out of Mark's hands. 

"Exactly," Jisung agreed, tugging a Chenle closer to him. Jaemin was spared from having to answer by Donghyuck's scream.

"DAMMIT MARK LEE WHY AREN'T YOU CAPABLE OF TAKING ONE GODDAMN PHOTO!?” He shrieked, looking absolutely murderous.

"I’ll go make popcorn," Jeno murmured in Jaemin's ear, standing up and laughing. He pressed a kiss to his temple before ducking into the kitchen. Jaemin's heart warmed. There was no doubt now, that Jeno liked him back. It was obvious. Friends don’t typically kiss each other like that (well Donghyuck is an exception).

Chenle and Jisung apparently heard him because they rushed over to cuddle with Renjun on the couch, making the older whine, grabbing blankets to watch the show. Yukhei looked momentarily confused, before coming over, too, and adjusting Jaemin so he could see better. Jaemin giggled as Donghyuck fumed, metaphorical steam coming out of his ears. He really hoped Jeno would be back with the popcorn soon. 

"I’m sorry Hyuckie!" Mark exclaimed, slowly backing away from his best friend, hands out placatingly. 

"You left the fucking lense cap on!"

"I’m sorry, Sun! I won’t do it again!" Mark was practically begging now. 

"You have three seconds," Donghyuck hissed. Mark did the only reasonable thing. He bolted. 

Unfortunately, Jeno didn’t make it back with the popcorn in time. But Jaemin got to cuddle him on the floor, so it wasn’t all bad. 

~

"You and Jeno are idiots," Donghyuck announced, strutting into the cafeteria like he owned it. 

"Excuse me?" Jaemin asked, staring at him. 

"You're not dating, are you?"

"Well," Jaemin replied, shuffling a little, "no, not really." Donghyuck groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically. 

"How can you not be dating?" 

"I don't know if Jeno wants a relationship," Jaemin replied, looking away from Donghyuck. It was the truth. Ever since their kiss two weeks ago, Jeno and Jaemin hadn't exactly discussed their relationship. They hadn't changed their behavior towards each other at all, but they weren't together either. 

"Why wouldn't he want a relationship?!" Donghyuck screeched, staring at Jaemin incredulously. "He's been in love with you since we were 13!" Jaemin just shrugged. 

"I don't know if his mom would be okay with it," he replied, frowning at his fork. "Plus, it's a lot of work to be in a relationship. Isn't that why you haven't asked Mark out yet?" 

Donghyuck just sputtered for a moment. "What?" He hissed. "Why would I be asking Mark out? I don't even like him. He's like, ancient!" 

"He's barely a year older than you," Jaemin deadpanned. "Don't come scolding me about my ability to get a boyfriend when you can't even admit that you like Mark." 

"I bet I could get one before you, though." 

"I only want Jeno, anyway," Jaemin replied. "You'd have to make Mark your boyfriend for that to be fair." 

“Well yeah,” Donghyuck agreed. “I flirt a lot but he’s always been the one I want.” 

“Aw how sweet!” Jaemin teased, pinching his cheek. “I’ll bet you that the loser cleans the winner’s room for whoever gets a boyfriend first.” 

"Well Mark wouldn't date me anyway," Donghyuck announced finally, sitting down next to him. “But okay.” Jaemin's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw Mark Lee standing over Donghyuck's shoulder, looking every bit like he’d heard the entire conversation. Then he grinned wickedly. _Speak of the devil and he shall appear,_ he thought cheerfully. 

"Donghyuck," Mark murmured, reaching out to touch his shoulder. Jaemin watched as Donghyuck paled. 

"Hey..." 

"Go out with me tonight?" Mark shuffled around, shooting a terrified look at Jaemin, since Donghyuck had yet to turn around. _You're doing fine,_ Jaemin mouthed, sending him a thumbs up. 

"Fine." Donghyuck was struggling to hide his grin, still not looking at Mark. Jaemin snickered. Was this what everyone else felt when they watched him and Jeno? 

"Great." Mark plopped down next to Donghyuck and slipped his hand into the younger boy's. 

"Awww!" Jaemin cooed. 

"Say one more word and I'll castrate you with a fork," Donghyuck hissed. 

"One more word." 

"Smartass."

"No, me?" Jaemin gasped. "Really?!" 

"I'm grabbing my fork," Donghyuck threatened, an evil smile on his face. 

"And we're leaving now," Mark announced, grabbing his soon-to-be-boyfriend and dragging him away. Jaemin heard Donghyuck's whine, before Mark leaned down and pecked him on the lips, efficiently cutting off Donghyuck's protest. Jaemin just grinned. Losing the bet wasn’t so bad, if Hyuck got to date his soulmate. 

~

That afternoon, he met Jeno outside student council, as he had been for the past two weeks, but this time, it was different. This time, Jaemin was going to ask Jeno if he would be his boyfriend. So, of course, Jaemin's stomach had to tie itself into knots for the time being, as he anxiously waited for his best friend. 

When Jeno finally came out, Jaemin thought he was about to throw up. His stomach was a complete mess of butterflies and anxiety. Upon seeing Jaemin, though, Jeno smiled, completely oblivious to Jaemin's inner turmoil. 

"Hey, Nana!" He exclaimed, walking over and ruffling Jaemin's hair. The younger leaned into the touch automatically, allowing Jeno to pet his hair. 

"Hey, Jeno," Jaemin replied, steeling himself. "Hey, I actually had a question." 

"Okay, shoot." 

"Would you be my boyfriend?" Jaemin's heart lurched when the silence stretched on. _Why was it taking so long? Is that bad? What if he doesn't want to? Will I be okay with that if he doesn't?_

"Oh my god," Jeno breathed out, after what felt like an eternity of waiting. "Oh my god." Jaemin couldn't help it. He panicked. 

"It's okay if you don't want to," He rushed. "I'd completely understand if you didn't want to. It was just a kiss, right? Nothing has to change," He babbled, staring at Jeno's feet. His heart was pounding with the fear of rejection. Jaemin has been rejected before, of course, it came with the territory of when you were unashamed to admit you liked someone. But if the person doing the rejecting was Jeno...maybe Jaemin’s heart wouldn’t recover in only three days. 

"No,” Jeno finally breathed out, his voice strangely spaced out. Jaemin's heart shattered into a million pieces. 

"Oh." Jaemin turned to wheel himself away, shrugging Jeno's hand off his hair. Tears started to pool in his eyes, embarrassment filling him. Part of him knew that Jeno wouldn't give up their friendship for anything, even if Jaemin was crushing on him, but the other part of him was telling him that he would, especially because it was _Jaemin_ loving him. And Jaemin was crippled, stuck in a wheelchair. Why would Jeno want him, when he could have a person that was as healthy as he was. Someone who wouldn't have to depend on him. 

His heart felt like it was broken, smashed so hard that there weren't even pieces to pick up. His heart was just dust. Glass powder. A single, warm tear slid down his cheek, landing on his neck, and that was the catalyst for the rest of them. Jaemin found himself crying, sobbing, really, as he ran away from Jeno, his crush who had just rejected him. _So this is what being heartbroken feels like,_ he thought bitterly, as he pushed open the school doors, hands aching from the wheels. 

"Jaemin wait!" Jeno yelled after him, but Jaemin was already gone. He didn't want to hear Jeno's apologies. Right now, Jaemin just wanted to be alone. 

~

"He what?!" Donghyuck yelled, looking livid. 

"I asked him to be my boyfriend and he said no," Jaemin mumbled, burrowing further into his blankets. Donghyuck was sitting on his bed, staring down at him. The older had come right away when Jaemin texted him to tell him that he needed him, no questions asked. _Sometimes,_ Jaemin thought, _I don't appreciate Hyuckie enough._

"That son of a bitch," Donghyuck huffed, plopping down next to Jaemin and cuddling him. "He doesn't deserve you, then." Jaemin just wailed, the sound muffled by Donghyuck's hoodie. 

"Do you want Renjun and I to kick his ass?" Donghyuck offered, pulling Jaemin closer to him. "That can be easily arranged if you want us to." 

"No!" Jaemin protested, whipping his head up to stare at his friend. "Don't hurt Jeno!"

"Why not," Donghyuck replied. "He hurt you. Seems fair." He shrugged.

"Because you love me and I asked you not to. Plus he's your friend too!" Donghyuck smiled at that. 

"I do love you, Nana," he replied, petting his hair. "But Jeno hurt you. And you're always gonna be my best bitch. So I'll hurt him if you want me to." Jaemin frowned. He loved Donghyuck's protectiveness, but he really didn't want him to hurt Jeno. 

"Please don't, Hyuckie?" Jaemin pouted at him. 

"Fine," The older huffed, frowning. "But Jeno needs to get his head out of his ass." 

"All he said was no," Jaemin pointed out, cuddling back up to Donghyuck. 

"Which was a dick move," Donghyuck replied stubbornly. "He could have been nicer and added more words like, 'I'm sorry' or 'I like you too, but I'm not ready yet'." Jaemin felt his eyes well up again when he mentioned Jeno liking him back. _Curse my stupid heart,_ he thought. When Hyuck noticed, he panicked. 

"No, don't cry, Nana!" He fretted, furiously wiping Jaemin's tears away. "No, no, no, no, no. Don't cry please. I hate it when you cry," He wailed, as Jaemin's tears came harder. "You know I cry when you guys cry," Donghyuck muttered, swiping at his eyes suspiciously. " I don't want to cry too. Stop it!" 

Jaemin chuckled a little, but couldn't seem to stop crying. It just hurt too much...the rejection was bad enough, but the moment where Jeno looked amazed had hurt the most. He hadn't stuck around long enough for the "but I still want to be friends" part. Jaemin didn't think he could have handled the friendzoning.

In some ways, to be friend zoned, would have felt like losing Jeno, only to be told he could have him back, but only in pieces, not the Jeno he knew. He’d have a watered down version of his best friend, a careful, distanced one. And Jaemin would rather lose him forever than be tortured by having a fraction of what they were. Even if it killed him inside. 

A wretched sob left Jaemin’s mouth, and Donghyuck just cuddled him tighter, mumbling senseless, wordless words of comfort into his ear. 

"Do you want to watch a shitty drama?" Donghyuck asked, when Jaemin's tears had finally stopped flowing. _Dramas have romance in them,_ Jaemin's messed up brain immediately supplied. His eyes welled up again. 

"Oh goddammit," Donghyuck groaned. "Bad Donghyuck, what the hell, you just suggested romance dramas to your heartbroken best friend, what the hell," he muttered, whacking his forehead with his hand. That made Jaemin laugh. 

"No dramas, please," he hiccuped, drying the tears off his face. "But can we watch a cartoon?" 

"Anything for you, my platonic soulmate," Donghyuck agreed, whipping out his laptop. 

"Don't be weird," Jaemin replied, but tucked himself under the other boy's arm anyway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’m very sorry to disappoint, don’t kill me please!, but idk I just felt like it wouldn’t be Nomin if they got together easily. I feel like their personalities wouldn’t make it that easy. Both of them are kind of dense when it comes to the other, so an easy get together seems like it’s not doing them justice. But I promise that it WILL happen. Just hold on!
> 
> Edit: My school has started and I have loads of assignments, so it might be a while between updates. I'm so sorry, but I'll do my best TT I promise this will be the next one I update.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys, I'm back! This chapter is a little longer than usual to try to make up for the long break, so I hope its okay. I don't think I'll be able to update during the week again, but I will do my best to work on this as much as possible. Have and good week, guys! <3
> 
> The angst continues in this chapter, but we're getting closer to figuring some things out! We're delving into Jeno's PoV now, as well as their past. This chapter helps shed light on the reason Jeno said no
> 
> Warnings: homophobic language, abuse scene, funeral.  
> -Super brief, but it's there. I hate those words, but I think it's necessary for the storyline. And the violence is somewhat descriptive but not over the top. The funeral is um...well, a funeral, but I don't like them either, so maybe someone else wouldn't. I dunno. 
> 
> Take care of yourself first, if any of these things might trigger you <3 (I can answer questions and such in the comments if anyone needs)

_"Hey, Nana!" He exclaimed, walking over and ruffling Jaemin's hair. The younger leaned into the touch automatically, allowing Jeno to pet his hair. Jeno smiled, poking Jaemin's ear as the younger made a cute little noise._

_"Hey, Jeno," Jaemin replied, making Jeno's heart melt at the way he said his name. Jaemin always used his name like it was precious and the habit was so, so endearing. "Hey, I actually had a question."_

_"Okay, shoot."_

_"Would you be my boyfriend?" Jeno was stupefied into shock. Wait what?_

_"Oh my god," Jeno breathed out, after what felt like an eternity of waiting. "Oh my god." Jaemin had asked him to be his boyfriend. Jaemin. Na Jaemin. What the hell?_

_"It's okay if you don't want to," Jaemin stammered, rushing. “I'd completely understand if you didn't want to. It was just a kiss, right? Nothing has to change," He babbled. Jaemin was staring at Jeno's feet. Why was he staring at Jeno's feet? All Jeno could do was stare at his beautiful face. If it was up to him, he'd hug and kiss Jaemin every second of every day until the younger was sick of it. He was in love with Jaemin's personality and couldn't imagine why the younger would be staring at his feet._

_Why would he think that Jeno didn't want to? He'd kissed him back! Of course he wanted to be Jaemin's boyfriend. He had for years! But...Jeno wouldn't be enough for him. He'd never be enough for him. How could he, when Jaemin was the most perfect boy on the planet? When Jeno himself was then entire cause of Jaemin's accident. When Jeno was still broken from his father. He couldn't have Jaemin, couldn't tell Jaemin why, couldn't lose him._

_"No,” Jeno finally breathed out, his voice sounding odd to his ears. Jaemin's face fell, Jeno could see it, his heart breaking at the expression of sheer pain on his love's face._

_"Oh." Jaemin turned to wheel himself away, shrugging Jeno's hand off his hair. Jeno tried to reach out for him, to explain, but Jaemin was running away too fast. His fingers missed the handle, the rest of his body frozen in place. His feet felt like they were frozen in concrete._

_"Jaemin wait!" Jeno yelled after him, finally snapping out of it, running after the other, but Jaemin was already gone._

~ 

_Present_

__ Lee Jeno was an asshole. End of story. Period. If you'd asked him, he'd have told you the same thing. Currently, he was curled up in his bed, hiding under the covers, refusing to talk to anyone. 'Anyone' being Renjun, who had shown up at his house demanding an explanation. Turns out, the downsides of having a tight friend group were that when you accidentally dumped your best friend-turned-crush and they sped off crying, your friends found out in record time. 

"Get your head out of the covers, Jeno," Renjun told him, poking his kneecap. Jeno just shook his head under the blanket and hoped Renjun could tell. Apparently, the older wasn't amused, judging from the way he kicked his shin. Frowning, Jeno stuck his middle finger up and out of the covers, flipping the other boy off. 

"I'm serious, Jeno," Renjun said, voice eerily calm considering what Jeno had just did. "Get your head out of your ass, out of the covers, and talk to me like a normal person." Jeno just shook his head again. 

"Okay," Renjun said, huffing loudly.

 _Thank god,_ Jeno thought. He wasn't in the mood to be interrogated. He just wanted to hide from the world and drown in his insecurity. He deserved it, after all, for dumping Jaemin the way he did. _You had to, though,_ his brain supplied. _You can't date him, can't have him. You can't tell him about all those years, all those times. You can't hurt him more._

He felt like absolute shit for doing it. Jaemin didn't deserve it. 

But...there was also this part of him that was relieved. It made him feel sick and dirty and gross, but part of him was glad. If he didn't date Jaemin, he wouldn't disappoint the younger. Jaemin wouldn't realize how broken he was and how hard it was to smile some days. Jaemin could find someone else, someone who could love him the way he deserved. 

Renjun interrupted him by whacking Jeno's shin with his fist, right in the middle of the bone, making Jeno wail in pain. 

"The hell, Renjun?!" He shrieked, popping out of the covers to glare at him. The older boy was just sitting there calmly, legs and arms crossed, a perfect deadpan laid over his delicate features. 

“Tell me what happened with Jaemin.” 

“No.” 

“Why?” 

“I don’t want to.” Jeno glared at him. Renjun didn’t react.

“Why?” 

“Because.” 

“Because why?” Renjun asked again, still staring into Jeno’s eyes. Jeno shot his best friend a deadpan. 

"What are you, twelve?" 

"Lee Jeno, tell me 'because why?' "

"Because I fucked up." _Because you're worthless,_ the voice in his head hissed. 

"Yeah I know, so _explain why,_ dipshit," Renjun huffed, running a hand through his brown hair in frustration. 

"Why do you care so much, Injunnie?" Jeno sat up, leaning against the headboard. 

"Because I'm your best friend and I think you're being stupid." Renjun's eyes were narrowed, the older looking seriously annoyed now. 

"I'm always stupid." 

"That's not the point." 

"Then what is?" Renjun scooted closer to him, wrapping an arm around Jeno's bare shoulder, his thumb soothing over the skin. The younger was stiff in his hold. 

"Jaemin deserves better. You deserve better. So tell me what happened, Nono, and we'll figure it out together." Jeno's resolve broke when Renjun used his childhood nickname. He hadn't heard that in years, not since his dad left. _Since his dad left._ Since the day Jeno realized he felt more for Jaemin than he should. 

_Jaemin,_ his heart sobbed, Jeno's stomach twisting painfully as Renjun held him. _Jaemin, I love you. I'm so sorry, Jaemin. You'll understand someday._

"Injunnie," he choked out, before the tears started flowing. 

~ 

_(Flashbacks start here)_

"Come on, Jen!" Jaemin called, seated on top of his bike. 

It was a beautiful day out, honestly. The sun was shining down through the sparse clouds, just enough to provide sections of shade. The sky was a gorgeous shade of blue, the grass a vibrant green. Birds were chirping and butterflies were out, flitting through the air as the two boys biked through Jaemin's neighborhood. 

"Coming, Nana!" Jeno peddled faster, the wind whipping through his black hair, trying to catch up to his friend. It wasn't his fault that Jaemin was fast! 

"Took you long enough!" Jaemin teased, his fellow seven year-old and best friend giggling. 

"I'm sorry!" Jeno giggled, letting Jaemin poke his nose. "My legs hurt!" 

"Why?" 

"Oh, just my dad helping me learn not to make mistakes." 

"Yeah appa says making mistakes is bad too," Jaemin agreed, lip jutting out thoughtfully. "I think mistakes are good though." 

"Really?" 

"I think they help with learning." Jaemin paused thoughtfully. "Or at least that's what eomma says." Jeno just giggled. 

"Ready to go down the hill?" He asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. Jeno had just gotten his very own bike, so he was excited to be able to bike with Jaemin. 

"Whoever gets to the bottom first wins!" Jaemin agreed, placing his feet on the peddles.

"Ready?"

"Set?"

"Go!" 

~

When they were 8 years old, Mr. Na introduced Jaemin to running. After that, Jeno noticed, Jaemin seemed to love it, always running around the school playground during recess. When Jaemin announced that he was going to join a track team, Jeno was super happy for him, and even attended most of his meets. 

"He's doing great, isn't he?" Mr. Na said, glancing over at Jeno with a fond smile. The little boy was swinging his legs back and forth, watching his best friend stretch. 

"Jaemin's amazing," Jeno agreed, bobbing his head firmly in agreement. 

"He's lucky to have a friend like you," Jaemin's dad said, patting Jeno's knee. "You're such a good motivator for him." 

"I think you motivate him more, though," Jeno replied, blinking innocently up at Mr. Na. "You're his father, after all." 

"Well I'm glad he has you." 

"Me too." Jeno watched Jaemin race around the track, a ten feet ahead of the other participants. To no one's surprise, Jaemin won his meet, then the next meet, and the next meet. 

Jeno was there for all of them, his mom always dropping him off with Mr. Na, the two of them as Jaemin's personal cheerleaders. And every time Jaemin won, his grin always grew wider when he saw both of them there. 

And that smile made eight year-old Jeno's heart race. 

~

Jaemin and Jeno cuddled together under the tree in Jeno's front yard, watching a meteor shower. Jaehyun and his friends had convinced Jeno's parents to let them stay up late and watch with them, so here they were, the ten year olds basking in the feeling of staying up past midnight. 

"They're so pretty," Jeno mumbled, scooting closer to rest his head on Jaemin's chest. The other boy just giggled, wrapping his arms around Jeno's body. 

"I think you're prettier though, Jen," he murmured back, into Jeno's hair, blushing shyly under the starlight. Jeno had never thought of himself as pretty, wasn't that supposed to be reserved for the girls?

"Prettier than the stars?" Jeno turned to stare up at his friend, a blush dusting his cheeks as well.

"Prettier than everything." 

~

Fifth grade was a hard year for Jaemin. Jeno couldn't imagine what his best friend was going through, with his father battling cancer. His best friend had been more sad lately, and he smiled and laughed less. Sure, Jaemin acted okay around everyone else, including Renjun and Donghyuck, but around Jeno, the brave face crumbled. 

Jeno just couldn't imagine the stress it put on him and his mom. Mrs. Na was one of the nicest ladies ever, practically his second mom, but when she dropped Jaemin off at Jeno's house for a sleepover, Jeno couldn't help but notice the dark purple rings under her eyes. 

"Have fun, okay, Jaejae?" She told Jaemin, hugging him and pressing a kiss to his head, before hugging Jeno too. "Take good care of him, Jeno." 

"I promise I will, Mrs. Na!" Jeno agreed, hugging her back. 

"I don't doubt that." Jaemin's mom exchanged a few words with Jeno's mom, before leaving. 

Their sleepover went well, the twelve year olds playing all kinds of games and watching a few cartoons, before being sent upstairs to go to bed. Of course, like any other fifth grader, they didn't actually plan on going to sleep. 

"What do you want to do now?" Jaemin whispered, lying in his sleeping bag on top of Jeno's bed. 

"I don't know." Jeno frowned in the darkness of his room, the only light coming from the stick-on glow in the dark stars he and Jaemin had put up years ago. 

"Hey Jen?" Jaemin asked, flipping over so he was facing Jeno. 

"Yeah?" 

"What do you think love feels like?" Jaemin's voice was open, curious, and his question made Jeno think. He thought about how he felt towards his mom and dad, then what he felt for Jaemin. 

"I think it feels like you're always warm inside," Jeno said softly, looking into Jaemin's eyes. "Like always wanting to be with them and take care of them. With my parents, I feel safe and comfy, but with you, I feel safe, comfy, and warm." 

"Do you think we're old enough to love?" Jaemin asked.

"I don't know, but I love you, Jaemin," Jeno mumbled, turning away embarrassed. 

"If that's what love feels like, then I love you too," Jaemin chirped decidedly, slipping out of the sleeping bag and under Jeno's covers too. Jeno let him cuddle him from behind, giggling when Jaemin tickled his side a little. 

"Don't do that!" He giggled, voice raising slightly higher than a whisper. 

"What? This?" Jaemin tickled his sides harder, breathing down on his neck, making Jeno shiver and squirm. 

"Stop!" He begged, writhing around and giggling. 

The door to the bedroom opened, light flooding in, making both boys freeze and squint against the light. Jeno's dad was standing in the doorway, frowning. 

"Get to bed boys," He told them, voice gruff. "And Jaemin, get back in your sleeping bag." When neither of them moved, his eyes narrowed. "Now, kids." Jeno flinched, unconsciously covering his head. He didn't want to get hit today. 

Jaemin crawled out of Jeno's covers, face visibly confused, before getting back in his sleeping bag. 

"Goodnight, Jeno," His dad said, before closing the door, no sentiment for Jaemin. Once the door was closed though, Jaemin slipped back out of the bag and into Jeno's covers, hugging him. 

"That was weird," He mumbled, eyes already starting to droop closed. 

"Yeah." Jeno cuddled up closer to Jaemin, trying to ignore the racing in his heart. _That was close,_ he thought. 

~

Jeno stood next to casket with Jaemin, holding the other's hand as Jaemin cried his eyes out. Jeno's heart was numb, unable to process that Mr. Na was dead. Jaemin's parents had been his second set of parents for as long as he could remember, just like his parents were Jaemin's second parents, well, at least his mom was Jaemin's second mom, and Jaehyun, Jaemin's adoptive older brother. Seeing his best friend and Mrs. Na crying and hurting was absolute torture. 

He held Jaemin's hand throughout the entire ceremony, and he held Jaemin, all by himself, while they lowered the casket into the ground, Jaemin's tears soaking through his button-up. Jeno had been his anchor throughout the entire ceremony, all the while feeling like he was missing something.

Later that night, Jaemin and his mom stayed the night with Jeno's family, too exhausted and mentally drained to stay at home. Jeno's mom had quickly prepared a mattress for them, cooking dinner for them, Jeno's dad no where to be seen. Jeno would have been worried, but he had more important things to worry about, anyway. It wasn't like his father cared what happened to them, anyway. 

After a quiet dinner, Jeno led Jaemin back to his room, sitting the younger boy down on the bed, before crawling up next to him and tugging Jaemin's head down onto his shoulder, carding his fingers through his hair. 

"He's gone," Jaemin croaked out, after a while. His fingers searched for Jeno's, the younger relaxing a little when he found them, twining them together. 

"I know, Nana," Jeno replied, squeezing his hand. "I'm sorry." 

"Do you think we're gonna be okay?" Jaemin's voice cracked as a new wave of tears came through, making Jeno's heart hurt for his best friend. 

"I think that it'll be okay eventually," Jeno offered, looking down at him helplessly. He really didn't know what to say or do. 

"I miss him," Jaemin sobbed. 

"I know, baby," Jeno said, the pet name slipping out. He leaned over, almost in a trance, and kissed Jaemin's temple. "But we'll be okay." 

~

"Get over here, you ungrateful child!" 14 year old Jeno whimpered against the wall, curled up in a ball. 

"Now!" His father screamed, hurling a beer bottle at the wall above Jeno's head. Jeno flinched, glass shards and stale alcohol raining down onto him. His mother was already unconscious, curled up on the floor next to the sofa, bruises littering her arms and face. The evening light made it hard to tell if she was bleeding anywhere. She probably was, his father had beaten her for trying to protect him. Yet another reason why Jeno wasn't a good person. He let his mother take his beating. 

His father had started disappearing more and more at night, coming home in the early hours in the morning, if he even came home at all. Jeno's mother had always looked worried, but never mentioned it to him, just kissing him and continuing with what she was doing. Now, days like this, moments like this, were common occurrences, sometimes two or three times a week. Really, they had been for years, Jeno had just been too young to realize.

"Listen to me, you worthless thing!" His father was looming over him, grasping his chin, forcing Jeno to look him in the eyes. His father's eyes were crazed, clouded with alcohol and rage. Weeks of stubble covered his jawline, dark circles under his eyes. "Look me in the eyes!" His father's breath reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. _When had he started smoking?_ Jeno thought. _Before or after he became an alcoholic? Before or after he cheated? Before or after he found out about me?_

"Did you talk to that boy again?" He hollered, yanking Jeno up by the hair, making him cry out in pain. His hair felt like it was being torn out of his skull. "Visit him? Hug him? Did you?" His father had a maniacal look in his eyes. "Did you? Are you a fag?" The slap rang through the room. 

"No," Jeno begged, "no, please, I didn't, I don't, no, no please!" Jeno's skin burned, his eyesight blurring as tears filled his eyes. _When had it come to this? Why didn't eomma and I realize? Why hadn't I been more careful?_

"He's more than just a friend, isn't he?" The scream was guttural and enraged. Jeno cowered back against the wall, still held in his father's hold. 

"No!" Jeno yelled, tears dripping down his face. "Jaemin's just my friend!" It didn't matter if Jeno wanted him to be something more. 

"I-" a kick to Jeno's shins made him crumple to the ground "-don't-" a knee to his face, snapping his head back against the wall with a crunch "-believe-" blood was dripping from Jeno's nose "-you!" Jeno's arms came up to shield his head, curling into fetal position, desperately trying to protect himself. 

"Please, don't do this, please, no!" He screamed, as another bottle was thrown at him, glass shards stabbing into his back. Jeno's blood dripped onto the floor around him. His father stalked across the room, headed for the kitchen, allowing Jeno to catch his breath. _Jaehyunnie, where are you?_

**~**

Jeno's dad left when he was 15, almost 16, and Jeno just couldn't bring himself to care. None of them could, really. His father had fallen so far into his alcohol addiction and so far into the darkness that when he packed his bags and left, none of them were surprised. He wasn't the man that had loved Jeno's mom, who had sired Jaehyun, who had sired him. He was a stranger, a demon cloaked in human skin. 

Their mourning had been quick. Jaehyun had just held their mother as she cried for what they had been, the man she had loved, before cracking his neck and going out to find a job. Jeno's eyes had stayed dry. 

Now that his father was gone, Jeno felt freer, less scared to be with Jaemin, but his mind was shackled. Even if his father wasn't with them any more, his voice still haunted Jeno's mind. 

Jaemin had walked in once, when Jeno's father was screaming at him. Jeno supposed he'd been lucky that it was only a yelling match, rather than a full-blown beating. He didn't want to think about what his dad would have done if Jaemin had been there. After all the slurs and homophobia, he wouldn't be surprised if his father tried to kill Jaemin. 

He supposed he'd also gotten lucky that the screaming wasn't about being gay this time, either, or about Jaemin at all. It had simply been screaming about his worthlessness, how he didn't deserve what he had, how he was always so ungrateful, how he should have been aborted, how they should have just sold him to someone. 

Jaemin had simply dragged Jeno away from his father, away from his house, and to Jeno's, where he held him for the entire night. 

That was the day that Jeno realized he was hopelessly in love with his best friend and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I'm so sorry I've been gone for so long. Life happened and all of a sudden I had no time to write. Writing was starting to stress me out too much, on top of everything else, and I had to step back for a little. I also went through a few weeks where I had no motivation to do anything. Getting up every day was a major struggle :( BUT, I have an idea of where I want this to go from here, so hopefully I can get to updating again soon. Thank you so much for your patience and support

Once Jeno’s tears had dried, Renjun ruffled his hair, before making them both dinner and tucking Jeno into bed. Renjun had crawled into the other side of the bed, holding Jeno’s hand until he fell asleep. He left before Jeno woke up the next day. 

The older had still attended school. Jeno didn’t bother to go. 

Every night, his dreams were filled with blood and broken glass, glowing, glittering light just out of reach. 

And every night, Renjun would be there, right next to him. He never mentioned Jeno’s constant skipping, never said anything to Jeno’s mom. Just held him. 

It was so kind of Renjun to do it for him. It really comforted Jeno. But he still felt like shit. 

Saturday morning, they just laid there for a while, scrolling through their phones, not really talking at all. After a while, Renjun stood up, stretching and yawning. 

“I’m gonna step out for a sec, okay, Jen?” He said, tugging his phone out of his hoodie pocket. “My mum wants me to check in since I told her I was staying the night again.” Jeno nodded before Renjun slipped out, leaving Jeno alone with his mind again. 

Had it really only been a week and a half since he’d rejected Jaemin? Had it really only been two months since Jaemin’s accident? Somehow, it felt like so much longer than that. 

Had it really only been a year since his father left? His voice still haunted Jeno, clouding his every decision, every thought. It never stopped him from putting on his perfect facade, the sunshine boy act. And sometimes, it wasn’t an act. Sometimes he was just glitteringly happy. Other times, thinking hurt, being around Jaemin hurt.

But Jaemin was also what made Jeno happy. What made smiling easier. His father had hated Jaemin for the happiness that he gave Jeno, and Jeno had hated his father for that hatred. 

Jaemin made Jeno happy. Jaemin was one of the brightest things in Jeno’s life, if not the brightest. His best friend was such a beacon of hope and his enthusiasm was so inspiring. 

When that truck had hit Jaemin outside of his house, Jeno’s heart had stopped. He’d cradled Jaemin’s broken body in his arms, the screams of ambulances in the distance. He’d barely even remembered calling 119. His tears fell into Jaemin’s hair, dripping down onto his porcelain skin, staining the perfection with Jeno’s pain. 

He’d sat by Jaemin’s side for the next three days, spending his entire weekend and even skipping school on Friday to be with his best friend. The whole time, Jeno had been scared that Jaemin wasn’t going to recover. His coma was deep, the boy not reacting at all. The doctors had scanned him while Jeno sat there, bated breath, and confirmed that there was immense damage to his spinal cord. 

Jeno had been the first person to hear that Jaemin would probably never walk again. 

His heart had hurt for Jaemin, constricting painfully. Jeno still remembered the shock he’d gone into, when the doctors told him. The doctors had followed up the diagnosis with warning Jeno that he might not wake up, period. Jeno knew. Oh, he knew. 

During the first ten days, Jeno had managed to befriend the nurses who watched over Jaemin, even managing to get them to add his own phone number to Jaemin’s emergency contact list. When the main nurse had called him, announcing that Jaemin had woken up, Jeno had never wanted the school day to end faster. He’d sprinted out of school the minute the bell rang, barely managing to tell Renjun and Donghyuck that Jeno was awake, before he was at the hospital. 

Jaemin was what completed Jeno’s life. Jeno had known it for years, but once he saw his best friend, his first love, awake and smiling, Jeno had felt its certainty in his heart. Even if Jaemin would never love him back, Jeno would be Jaemin’s forever. There was no other option for his heart. He was Jaemin's one and only, no matter what. 

Jeno rolled over in his bed, emotions messy and unclear. He knew what love was. He knew that what he felt for Jaemin was love. He knew that he wanted to date Jaemin. Always had, since they were little. He had never wanted to hurt him, either. Jeno still didn't know why he'd asked Jaemin for a kiss that day. It was the cause of all of this. No, _Jeno_ was the cause of all of this. He'd shoved Jaemin away. 

Could he give them a chance? Could Jeno tell Jaemin how much he meant to him, how sorry he was for pushing him away, how grateful he was that he had him? Could Jeno finally let himself be happy?

Jeno’s thoughts swirled around for a while, the boy debating whether to get up and tug on a shirt yet. On the one hand, he didn’t want to get out of bed because it was comfy, and he was upset. On the other hand, Jeno knew that civilized people wore shirts, even if they were angsty teenagers. 

Frowning, Jeno gave in and slipped out of bed, stretching, groaning as his back popped. What was taking Renjun so long? _Wow, I really need to clean up my room_ , Jeno thought as he dug through the heaping pile of hoodies and t-shirts in the corner of his room. 

The door cracked open, making Jeno look up, finding Renjun’s head poking into his room, the younger still struggling to find a clean shirt. 

“Hey, you,” Renjun greeted, raising an eyebrow at Jeno’s state of undress. If he had any opinion about Jeno finally leaving his bed, Renjun didn’t show it. “Sorry I took so long, had to make another call.” 

“It’s fine.” Jeno tugged another shirt out, trying to discreetly sniff it. _NOPE_ , he shrieked mentally, _NOT CLEAN!_

“Although, actually,” Renjun continued, pushing the door open wider, making Jeno look up. “Someone’s here to talk to you.” The door swung open fully to reveal one Na Jaemin. 

Jeno froze. 

~

Jaemin watched as Jeno’s whole body stiffened, the boy’s bare back to him, eyes wide with surprise. A twisted part of his brain was drooling over the toned muscles, but Jaemin quickly snapped it back into place. _He’s not yours, he reminded himself. You’re just here to explain yourself and then leave. No feelings attached._

“Hey, Jeno,” he murmured, eyes nearly falling out of their sockets when Jeno turned around, still shirtless. Seriously, was he really this cruel to leave Jaemin to suffer like this, just after their fallout? 

“Hey Nan-Jaemin,” Jeno replied, equally as softly, looking at Jaemin with an absolutely stricken face. Jaemin’s heart constricted. _Again with the ‘Jaemin’? Did he really hate me that much?_ “Why did you come here?” _Okay, ouch._

“To talk.” Jaemin gulped. “Can I maybe...come in?” His toe twitched towards the door, making Jaemin’s brain temporarily short-circuit. W _ait what? Did that just happen? Surely it didn’t, right?_ He wrote it off as just another spasm, the action completely separate from the matter at hand. 

“Yeah, just- let me-” Jeno rummaged around in his pile, pulling out a tank top and tugging it on as Jaemin wheeled himself into the room. Renjun’s thumb caressed the nape of Jaemin’s neck before the Chinese boy gently shut the door behind the couple, giving them their privacy. 

“So…” Jaemin mumbled, staring at his casts. His friends had signed them in multi-colored sharpies, each person decorating in a different font. Renjun’s was smooth, neat cursive, written in elegant black, while Jisung’s was small and messy, written in the same color. Donghyuck’s a messy scrawl of rich blue ink, while Chenle’s was nice and bold, bright orange, and then there was Jeno’s. 

Truthfully, Jeno’s was the one that Jaemin’s eyes had landed on first, the one that his eyes _alway_ s landed on first. His characters were slanted sideways, a sketch of a finger heart right beside it. _Hwaiting, Nana!_ , it read, inked on painstakingly in rainbow colors. Jaemin remembered sitting patiently in the hospital room, as his best friend switched colors every letter, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. 

Jeno cleared his throat. “So…” he copied, sitting on the bed and not looking Jaemin in the eyes. They just sat there for a while.

“I wanted to apologize,” Jaemin blurted out suddenly, eyes darting up to study Jeno’s face. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Jeno replied, Jaemin watching his throat bob. “I didn’t feel uncomfortable.” 

“I’m still sorry for asking,” Jaemin continued, eyes sliding down when Jeno finally looked him in the eyes again. He peered up at Jeno through his eyelashes, before looking away again. “I missed you at school.” 

“I’m sorry.” Jeno just looked sad. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“It’s okay.” God, Jaemin hated the tension. The room was heavy with it, nearly suffocating them with the buzzing feeling. 

“Was that all you wanted?” Jaemin winced at the cool tone of Jeno’s voice. His best friend was being so distant…

Jaemin took a deep breath. “I won’t force my feelings on you or anything. I just wanted to apologize and ask if we could be friends?” 

He’d talked it over with Donghyuck earlier that morning, before Renjun’s call, and decided that not being friends was a little dramatic. The younger had agreed with him, saying that he’d have to move on from Jeno eventually. Hanging onto what he couldn’t have would only be damaging. After a lot of careful consideration, Jaemin decided to just take Renjun and Donghyuck’s suggestion and just get the conversation over with.

“Okay.” Jeno’s fists clenched at his sides, Jaemin’s eyes immediately focusing in on the motion. _Jeno never does that_ , he thought, worry starting to take over his brain. _What did I say wrong this time?_

“Okay.” Jaemin’s heart clenched as his hands slid down to the wheels on his chair, fingers mindlessly tugging his gloves on. “I’ll just be going-” 

“Wait,” Jeno blurted, fingers grasping at Jaemin’s wrist, halting the movement. 

“Yeah?” Jaemin’s heart started pounding. 

“What if,” Jeno paused, sliding off the bed and standing in front of Jaemin, fingers sliding in between the gaps in the younger’s fingers. “Maybe I-” Jeno voice was soft, stuttering. Jaemin’s heart was starting to skip beats now. _What if…?_ Jeno’s palm was warm against his own. 

“Never mind,” Jeno breathed, hands dropping Jaemin’s. “I’m sorry. I’ll walk you out.” Jaemin’s heart stuttered, fingers twitching, longing to be held again. He allowed Jeno to push him out into the hallway. 

“Renjun said he went home,” Jeno announced, plucking a bright yellow sticky note off the wall and reading it. Jaemin hadn’t even seen it, despite being eye level with the note. The awkward silence was really messing with his brain. 

“That’s fine.” His heart felt empty, broken. Jaemin knew it was what Jeno and him needed if Jaemin himself was ever going to move on, but the actual confession was breaking his heart in half. 

Once they were at the door, Jeno sighed. “Guess you’ll be going now,” he said, releasing the handles and standing next to Jaemin. Despite the awkward conversation and aloof behavior, Jeno sounded disappointed that Jaemin was leaving. 

“Yeah.” Jaemin couldn't look at him, so he stared at Jeno’s arms. Great coping method, right? _Why did Jeno have to be so tempting and yet so, so unattainable?_

“Bye, Jaeminnie,” Jeno murmured, meeting Jaemin’s sad eyes before dropping again. Jaemin’s hand clutched at the wheel on the right side of his wheelchair, out of Jeno’s sight, the grooves cutting into his hand. When Jeno smiled a clearly forced eye-smile, Jaemin gripped the wheel tighter, a piece of metal digging into his palm. He felt more than saw a drop of blood run down his hand. 

“Bye, Jen.” Jaemin wheeled himself down the path, eternally grateful for people with flat doorways. His eyes welled up a little, Jaemin’s heart saddened again. He talked with Jeno, apologized, and yet he didn’t feel any better, any less confused. If anything, he was even more baffled than before. He was nearly at the end of the street, about to hit the crosswalk button, before he heard the door slam, making his eyes well up more. 

“Jaemin wait!” Jeno’s voice yelled, nearly scaring him half to death. Jaemin twisted his head around to see Jeno running after him, completely barefoot, feet making slapping sounds against the concrete. Jaemin’s heart warmed, just as his brain recoiled. _Where are your shoes?!_ It screeched, going into full-mother-hen mode. _You’re going to tear your feet apart!_

“I’m sorry,” Jeno panted, hand coming to rest on Jaemin’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” Now Jaemin was really confused. 

“Why are you sorry?” He asked, voice trailing off at the end. Jeno hadn’t done anything wrong. Jaemin was the one to kiss him, to ask him to be his boyfriend, to turn their friendship completely upside down. If anyone should be apologizing, it was Jaemin. 

“For saying no,” Jeno clarified, making Jaemin’s heart stop for the second time.

“Why…?” 

“Because it’s not true,” Jeno mumbled, inching closer to Jaemin. 

“Then why’d you say it?” Jaemin snapped, hand immediately coming up to cover his mouth. O _h shit, what the hell, why did you just say that,_ he mentally berated himself. _The dude’s trying to apologize and you’re being all snippy! Weren't you the one who wanted to fix this friendship?! What's wrong with you?!_

“Because we have a lot to talk about,” Jeno replied, coming closer still to Jaemin, leaning down a little. Jaemin was starting to find it harder to breathe. Was he even breathing? 

“A lot to talk about because,” Jeno continued. “There’s pieces of my past that I still haven’t shared with you. Things that I need some time for. And parts of me that I need to work on.” Jeno paused to take a breath, fingers stroking the side of Jaemin’s neck. The younger’s brain was short circuiting, trying to process Jeno’s cryptic words and the hand on his neck. Jaemin was having a sensory/emotional overload. 

“I didn’t want to burden you with it, with me.” Jeno’s breath hitched, making Jaemin’s heart hurt. 

“I would never-” Jaemin started, but Jeno cut him off. 

“Let me finish, ok?” Jaemin nodded numbly, as Jeno’s fingers tangled in his hair. “I didn’t want to hurt you more. But now, I think...” Jeno stared him in the eyes, making Jaemin’s heart ache. Was this really happening? Was this what he thought it was? 

“I want to try.” Jaemin’s heart stopped. “I want to try dating you.” Jeno’s voice sounded breathless. “You make me so happy, Nana.” Jeno’s breath was on Jaemin’s lips, one hand cupping Jaemin’s jaw, the other resting on his neck. 

“I think I love you,” Jeno whispered, pressing his lips to Jaemin’s. 

Jaemin wasn’t even sure if he was dreaming. Jeno’s lips were so soft against his own, pressing sweetly, lightly, his thumb stroking over Jaemin’s jaw. The kiss was perfectly tender, full of unspoken promises. When they separated to catch their breath, Jeno shot Jaemin a half smile, lips crooked and eyes twinkling. 

Jaemin lurched forward, wrapping his arms around Jeno’s neck, kissing him back with all his might. Their lips molded together so well, Jeno’s nose fitting neatly beside Jaemin’s. Despite all the emotions lacing the kiss, all the longing, the kiss stayed sweet and light. 

“I love you too,” Jaemin murmured, once they’d pulled back, resting his forehead against Jeno’s. Jeno’s chuckle made Jaemin surge forward again, pulling Jeno into another kiss. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I’m back again with yet another probably shitty chapter! But it’s edited this time!!! That’s sad, actually TT.  
> All that aside, I am sincerely sorry it is taking me this long with this story. I promise that I still love this story to pieces; it’s my baby. I have no intentions to stop writing it, I’m just kinda overloaded right now (and possibly for the foreseeable future). I *think* I have a decent-ish plan for how to update, and I’ve mostly created my final outline for the story, so I’m hoping to update in 2-3 weeks (if not less!). As much as I’d love to be a writer who updates weekly, that’s just not possible for me, so I hope everyone can understand that. I also finished the tags, so that’s what to expect, no more changes.  
> That being said, thank you to everyone who still puts up with my infrequent updates and reads this <3

Jaemin was sitting at their usual table at lunch a week later, minding his own business, doing his calculus homework, when a tray slammed down right next to his textbook, green beans flying everywhere. 

“Can I help you—oh hi, Hyuck.” Jaemin spared the other boy a quick glance, before stealing a napkin off his tray to wipe a few stray beans off his homework. “How was your day?”

“Is he still not talking to you,” Donghyuck demanded, breezing right past Jaemin’s question, an unreadable look in his eyes. 

Jaemin opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by Donghyuck again. “I swear if he isn’t,” Donghyuck interrupted, scowling at the table. “I told that fucker—“ 

“He is—“ Jaemin started again, rolling his eyes when Donghyuck’s voice rose above his own again. 

“He’s NOT talking to you?” The other boy screeched, throwing his hands up in the air. “Honestly, I’m gonna strangle that boy, I swear to god—“ 

“Will you shush it and listen?” Jaemin interrupted him, leveling the older with an incredulous look. “ I can't tell you anything if you keep interrupting me!” 

“Oh.” Donghyuck pouted adorably for a second, making Jaemin squeeze his cheek and coo for a second, just to make Donghyuck cringe and stick his tongue out. 

“Jen and I are dating now, we kissed about a week ago, and it was hot.” 

Inhuman screeching followed suit for the next few minutes, before Renjun came over and shot Donghyuck the most judgemental look to ever grace the Earth.

“What is he going on about?” The eldest huffed, glaring at the still-gushing boy. 

“Nana and Jen are _dating!”_ Donghyuck squealed, clapping his hands together in front of his chest. “We’ve been waiting _years_ for this! Isn’t it simply amazing, Injunnie?” 

“Wow, it’s amazing,” Renjun deadpanned, before letting his head fall forward onto the table with a loud bang. “I hate my life.”

Jaemin hastily pulled Renjun’s head off the table, inspecting the bruise on his forehead worryingly. 

“Why?” He questioned carefully, eyeing the rapidly-blooming bruise. _Is it supposed to be that purple? And that big?_

“Wong fucking Yukhei is trying out for student president too,” Renjun mumbled into Jaemin’s shoulder dejectedly. 

“I thought you weren’t into StuCo?” Jaemin eyed the fluffy tufts of dark brown hair that were obscuring the bruise. “Jen’s been trying to convince you to join for years.”

“Yeah, and I changed my mind,” Renjun snapped, glaring into Jaemin’s eyes until the older let go of his head. “But now that I am, so is fucking Yukhei!” 

“And?” Donghyuck prompted, carefully, wincing before Renjun could actually respond. A pissed off Renjun was a dangerous one, after all. “He’s your friend. It’s not like you don’t know him.” 

“And?!” Renjun shrieked, “So what if he’s my friend? This is a competition! And I’m going to fucking lose because he’s a popular loser that I hate so much!” The statement petered off into little depressed sobs. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Jaemin soothed, petting Renjun’s hair. “It’s not like—“

“—Hey Renjun! I heard you were running for student council president too!” Yukhei boomed, appearing behind Donghyuck. 

“UGH!” Renjun moaned, banging his head on Jaemin’s shoulder, _painfully._

“Is he okay?” Yukhei questioned, looking worried. 

“No!” Renjun announced, burying his head further into the junction between Jaemin’s neck and shoulder. “Leave me to die in peace!” 

Yukhei looked even more worried. 

“He’ll get over it,” Jaemin assured, shooting his classmate an apologetic look. “He’s just a bit upset right now.” 

“Um, okay.” Yukhei still looked worried though, as he plopped down next to Donghyuck. 

“Well this was fascinating in all, but I’m going to be going now. Things to do, people to see,” Donghyuck chirped cheerfully, suddenly slinging his bag over his shoulder as his phone buzzed in his pocket. 

Jaemin stared at him bewilderedly, before something dawned on him, glancing up to confirm his suspicions. 

Sure enough, Mark Lee was standing next to the cafeteria door, cell phone in hand, staring at their table. 

Jaemin just chuckled, before slapping Hyuck on the ass. 

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” he joked, cackling when Donghyuck glared at him as he made his way to Mark. 

When everyone at the table eyed him weird, he just shrugged, pulling out his phone to send a few texts. 

To: FullSun

_Ik I tease u a lot but I’m happy for u. I’m also super sry u missed ur date for me. Have fun!! <3 [11:29] _

FullSun

_thx loser ilu2 [11:29]_

Jaemin smiled, happy for his friend. When it came to boyfriends, one couldn’t do much better than Mark Lee. He’d take care of Donghyuck well, plus he was clearly head over heels for him too. His ‘best bitch’ was in good hands. 

To: ♥️Acorn♥️

_Hey where r u? [11:30]_

_I miss u [11:30]_

The response was almost immediate. 

_♥️Acorn♥️_

_Stuck w StuCo business. Sry babe. Pick u up from Park’s after school? [11:31]_

_Also [11:31]_

_I miss u too [11:31]_

_To: ♥️Acorn♥️_

_Aww it’s ok bb, dw bout me [11:32]_

_See u after class! [11:32]_

**_(⌒▽⌒)_ ** _[11:33]_

Jaemin was pulled out of Virtual Text World by a particularly painful poke to the side. 

“Pay attention to me,” Renjun whined uncharacteristically. “Quit texting your dipshit boyfriend. I’m having a crisis!” 

Jaemin just laughed. “Injun, it’s okay, you know, right?” 

The boy in question picked his head up off Jaemin’s shoulder to glare at him menacingly. 

“What.”

“It’s okay to have a crush,” Jaemin whispered into his ear, giggling when the older flinched away and whacked his arm. “You don’t have to pretend to hate him.” 

“Yah! I don’t have a—“ the other boy’s eyes flickered over to Yukhei, sitting and watching the exchange with confusion written all over his tanned face, and swallowed his intended words,”—test next,” Renjun finished lamely. 

Jaemin just patted his thigh, and went back to his calculus textbook, ignoring the charged silence surrounding the table. Yukhei and Renjun would figure it out in their own time. 

The last few minutes of Mr. Park’s class dragged on forever. Jaemin watched the second hand on the clock tick slowly away, each second slower and longer than the last. If he focused closely enough, he could hear the ticking of the gears within. 

His mind drifted back to Jeno, as it always did when he was unoccupied. Well, really, his brain was always on Jeno, regardless of his occupation status. 

Anyway. 

His brain drifted back to Jeno, his best friend, and his fluffy black hair, crescent eyes that hooked you and dragged you in, toned arms and shoulders, and the tiny, ever so little difference in their standing heights. That, well, now that Jaemin thinks about it, is quite a lot bigger now. 

“Yo, Jaemin,” Yukhei whispered, interrupting his musings, poking his arm under the table. 

“Mm?” Jaemin mumbled back, still watching the thin hands of the clock. 

“You’re drooling,” Yukhei chirped cheerfully, turning the page in his notes in time with the droning lecture. 

“I am-“ Jaemin swiped at his mouth, “-not…” he grumbled, wiping his hand on his pants. _Was that before or after the toned arms…?_ A subtle check on his pants confirmed that it was definitely after the arms. 

Another glance between his blank notebook and Yukhei’s full one confirmed that he’d spaced out for way longer than intended. 

Luckily, the bell rang, and immediately, all the students around Jaemin, including Yukhei, began packing up, hustling to get out of the classroom before Mr. Park could assign homework. 

“For tonight, everyone needs to read textbook pages 47-89. I’m sorry it’s so long, but the board expects it. Have a good night, students,” Mr. Park yelled out the door to the quickly retreating group of students. 

As soon as the students were out of sight, the teacher ran back to his desk and collapsed. 

“Ugh,” he groaned quietly, thumping his head on the desk. “Kill me now,” he grumbled as he undid his tie and took off his jacket. 

Jaemin blinked, having just finished packing up, staring at Mr. Park in confusion. 

“Are you okay?” He asked carefully, wheeling himself to the front, backpack perched in his lap. 

“Huh? What?” Mr. Park stuttered, looking around wildly, before his eyes settled on Jaemin. 

“Oh!” he gasped. “Oh no! I just—and there was a student in here—my career is over! Now Baek is definitely not going to marry me!” 

Jaemin blinked slowly again, _did he mean Mr. Byun…?,_ before laughing uncomfortably. “It’s okay, Mr. Park,” Jaemin assured. “I won’t tell.” 

“I’m sorry,” Mr. Park apologized, leaning back in his chair and staring at Jaemin. “It was unprofessional of me.” 

“Don’t worry about it!” Jaemin urged, glancing at the door hopefully. _Come on, Jeno, hurry,_ he begged. _Get me out of this awkward situation!_

“Is your schoolwork coming along okay?” 

“Yes, it’s going great, sir!”

Well, kinda. Jaemin was falling calculus right now, but his history teacher definitely didn’t need to know that. On second thought, _no one_ needed to know that.

“That’s good. My condolences for your accident,” Mr. Park continued. “I’m sorry I hadn’t said so sooner.” 

Jaemin just twisted his hands together awkwardly. Even after all the healing he’d done, mentioning it was always a little too much. Why did everyone always insist on mentioning it?

Mr. Park seemed to realize this, and panicked. “Aw shit,” he gasped. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable! Oh my god, I’m such an idiot! I’m sorry, Jaemin!” He wailed, running his hands through his hair frantically. 

Jaemin paused his nervous habit, studying his teacher with wide eyes. He’d never heard a teacher curse before, let alone apologize as much as Mr. Park did. Maybe he should rethink Jongin as his favorite staff...

“Really, it’s fine, Mr. Park-ssi,” Jaemin repeated, staring hopelessly at the open doorway, just a few meters away. _Lee Jeno, if you don’t appear_ right now, _I’m divorcing you._

“Hello?” Jeno’s voice came seconds before his dark head popped into the doorway. “Jaemin?” 

“Jeno!” God bless cute boyfriends with impeccable timing. “I was beginning to think you forgot about me!” 

“Sorry, Mr. Byun dropped his papers in the hall, and I helped him pick them up. Then I got stuck in a conversation with Yeri about the upcoming elections,” Jeno apologized, coming in to stand next to Jaemin.

”Yukhei and Renjun gave us two more people to register and place in the files since they’re new to StuCo, and it was just a big mess. Fun fact: Principal Junmyeon needs to come up with a better system for organizing his file cabinet.” Jeno ruffled the hair at the back of Jaemin’s head affectionately. 

“Hello, Jeno!” Mr. Park greeted, untangling himself from his jacket and standing up, glasses frames askew. “Did you mention Baekhyun?” 

“I did…?” Jeno trailed off, shooting a questioning look at Jaemin. “Is that Mr. Byun?” Jaemin just shrugged at him. 

“It is, yes.” Mr. Park looked frantic now, tugging his jacket back on and patting down his mussed hair. “Um...where did you come from, exactly?” 

Jaemin resisted the nonsensical urge to say, _his mother, where do you think?,_ while Jeno answered un-sassily, “Hallway 200, sir.” 

“Thank you!” Mr. Park was running out the door instantly. As soon as he was gone, Jaemin and Jeno swapped equally bewildered looks. 

“Any idea what that was about?” Jeno questioned, eyebrows raised, expression amused. 

“Nope.” 

“I didn’t realize they were dating,” Jeno mused, stepping closer to Jaemin. 

“I didn’t care,” Jaemin retorted, before hooking his fingers through Jeno’s belt loops. When the other didn’t protest, Jaemin tugged on the front of his boyfriend’s hoodie to pull him down for a kiss. 

Jeno’s lips were as soft as always, just a little chapped, fitting perfectly in between his own. At least now Jaemin could kiss him whenever he wished, no longer aching for something he couldn’t have. How could he have forgotten that this supreme specimen of a boy was his? 

Spurred on by the thought, he tugged Jeno further down, twisting his hand in the other’s hair, deepening the kiss. 

When Jeno nipped at his bottom lip, begging for entrance, Jaemin let out a highly embarrassing whine, keening desperately as Jeno’s tongue entered his mouth. 

Maybe Jaemin lost track of time again, but could you blame him? Lee Jeno was a Greek god revived, hot as hell, and a 20/10 kisser. 

“Did you miss me?” Jeno teased, once Jaemin was finally satisfied and kiss-drunk, playing with the hair at the nape of Jaemin’s neck how he always did. 

“Maybe…” Jaemin muttered, pouting up at the older. “Was I not supposed to?” 

“No, it’s fine! Better than fine!” Jeno rushed. “I missed you too! More than you missed me! I—you’re smirking, I should shut up now, shouldn’t I? ” The last sentence was mumbled cutely and accompanied by an even cuter pout. 

“Aigooo!!” Jaemin cooed, smirk dropping off his lips, tugging Jeno down once again to kiss the tip of his nose. “Such a cutie. How did I get so lucky?” 

“Ew.” 

“What did you just say?” Jaemin demanded, raising an eyebrow, deciding to play along with Jeno’s game. 

“Ew,” Jeno repeated, a playful smirk gracing his face. “You’re gross.” 

“Divorced!” Jaemin declared, rolling his wheelchair back away from him to emphasize his point. Unfortunately, his plan failed, and he ran over Jeno’s toes, inconveniently placed _right behind his wheels_ , making his boyfriend shriek in pain and hop around. 

“Ow, what the fuck, Jaemin!” Jeno whined, bracing himself against the desk and cradling his injured foot. 

“I’m sorry!” Jaemin wailed back, staring at said boyfriend hopelessly. “It was an accident! I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you! 

“Humph,” Jeno sighed, glowering at Jaemin as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and gingerly put his foot back on the ground. “And ‘divorced’? Really? I hadn’t realized you’d already married me. Isn’t there some law against that?” 

“Let’s be real, I married you when we were seven.” 

“There’s _definitely_ a law against that.” 

A muffled snicker caught his attention before Jaemin could come up with a suitable retort, and he turned to look for the source of the sound, promptly turning pale once he found it. 

“Renjun, how long has Hyuck been filming us?” 

“Long enough,” the eldest replied, looking amused. 

“If you buy us ice cream, I won’t post it the class chat.” 

“I hate you two snakes,” Jaemin griped, wheeling out the door, patting Jeno’s cheek as he went. 

After an impressive multitude of death threats and Kakao-Talk threats along the way to their destination, the quadruple settled in at their favorite ice cream parlor to enjoy doing absolutely nothing. 

“Shouldn’t we be studying?” Renjun idly remarked, glancing over the edge of his phone, physics flashcards pulled up and reflecting in the glass of the window he was curled up against. 

“Shouldn’t you be holed up in your library cave with Mark Lee?” Donghyuck snorted, hooking his chin over the other boy’s shoulder to stare at his phone screen. 

“Shouldn’t you be sucking face with him in there instead?” Renjun replied sweetly, picking Donghyuck’s chin up off his shoulder with his free hand and turning the younger’s head away pointedly, giving him a little shove. 

“I don’t ‘suck face’ with him,” Donghyuck squawked indignantly, glaring at Renjun. “The only thing I ever sucked was his d-” 

“-That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard,” Renjun interjected, laughing. “Mark Lee is the biggest prude this world has ever seen. You haven’t even been on one date-”

“-Thanks to Jaemin!” 

“-I said I was sorry!”

“-there’s no way he let you near his-” 

“Don’t say that word right now!” Jaemin hissed, interrupting again, reaching across the table to slap a hand over Renjun’s mouth. “There’s a little girl sitting right over there!” 

When Renjun glared balefully at Jaemin, expression murderous, Jaemin removed his hand, laughing nervously. 

“Never mind, carry on, Injunnie,” he croaked, sinking closer into Jeno’s side, ignoring the press of his wheelchair arm against his side. 

“Fight nice, children,” Jeno placated serenely, readjusting his hand in Jaemin’s, stroking his thumb briefly over the top of the other’s hand. 

When Jaemin whined and nudged his hand for a lick of his dark chocolate ice cream, Jeno just sighed and pointedly ignored him. 

The couple quietly watched Renjun and Donghyuck bicker for a few more minutes before it escalated a bit more again, the pair getting louder and louder before quieting down. 

Despite his previous reluctance, Jeno let him have a lick, then another, laughing cutely, while Jaemin savored the bitter chocolate, cool on his tongue. It gave him an idea...

Once he was done stealing his boyfriend’s ice cream (that Jaemin paid for, so technically it wasn’t really stealing), he tugged Jeno down a little, enough to whisper in his ear, “I would’ve liked to see how it tasted on you,” before he pulled away. 

Renjun raised an eyebrow, asking, “now who’s saying inappropriate things around children?”, as he stirred his matcha ice cream around in the bowl (heathen!), while Donghyuck squawked indignantly, tossing his ice-cream-laden spoon at Jaemin, claiming that he was too innocent for this bullshit. 

The few people in the parlor turned to see what had caused all the commotion, a few parents with small children sending them disapproving looks, while Jaemin wiped the cherry ice cream off his face with a disgusted look. 

The blush on Jeno’s face, creeping up onto the tips of his ears, was totally worth it though. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter makes sense because it took a little while to map out how I wanted it to play out. I actually moved it up in the timeline after some consideration. 
> 
> I'm aiming for the next update in 2-4 weeks, please don't be mad at me if it takes a little longer...>~<
> 
> As always, all kudos and comments mean the world to me, readers are the reasons that authors share their work! <3

After the group finally parted ways and said their goodbyes, Jaemin was lingering outside, finishing up the last of his ice cream, hand intertwined with Jeno’s, unwilling to let go of him just yet, when he spotted a familiar little girl running down the street, her familiar old, ragged bunny in hand. 

“Jaeminnie!” 

“Eunbi!” Jaemin cried, laughing when the little girl clambered up on his lap to give him a hug. “How are you, kiddo?” 

“Good! How is oppa?” She giggled when Jaemin booped her nose and ruffled her hair. On second thought, maybe Jaemin shouldn’t have done that...her pigtails looked even worse now. Really, Dr. Junmyeon/his spouse needed to learn how to tie hair better. 

“I’m good,” Jaemin replied, squeezing the little girl. “I didn’t expect to see you today.” 

“Daddy was busy so I ran over here to come see you! You come here a lot!”

“Um...you’ve only seen me here once, kiddo.” 

“Yes but that was once more than I’ve seen him!” Eunbi pointed out, pointing one little finger at Jeno. “Plus I’ve seen oppa at the park and at school,” she added, pouting, hugging her bunny closer. 

“That’s true, I guess,” Jaemin relented, ruffling her hair again, _screw it_ , wrapping an arm around her waist before turning his chair, one handed (impressive, right?), to face Jeno. 

“Listen, Eunbi, this is my friend Jeno,” Jaemin explained, reaching out to pat his boyfriend’s hand. “He’s my bestest friend in the whole world. And Jeno, this is Eunbi, Dr. Junmyeon’s daughter.” 

“Pleased to meet you, Eunbi,” Jeno replied, eye smiling at her. “How old are you? I’m almost 19.” 

“I’m six,” Eunbi announced, “and if you call me tiny or cute, you will regret it.” The little girl jutted her lip out in a pout, almost as if she was challenging someone to question her. 

Instead, Jaemin just ruffled her hair and cooed. It didn’t matter that Eunbi had just threatened him, he was a full grown man that could take care of himself, and she was simply too adorable to not _squish._

Jeno chuckled, having most likely deduced exactly what Jaemin was thinking, reaching down to ruffle Eunbi’s hair as well, but the little girl shied away, cuddling into Jaemin’s chest. 

“He’s scary,” Eunbi mumbled into Jaemin’s shirt, fists clutching desperately at his T-shirt. “Don’t like him. He’s okay far away but now he’s too close.” 

Jeno visibly deflated, having definitely heard the words, and Jaemin rushed to reassure him through determined eye contact and little touches to his puffed-out cheeks that it was okay. 

“Why don’t you like Jeno, Eunbi?” 

“Too tall.” Eunbi accentuated the statement with a little head bob, making Jeno laugh too as he bent down, dropping into a squat in front of Jaemin. Jaemin has some very choice words for that action and how Jeno’s rear end looked while doing it, sue him, but there was a child present! 

“Better?” 

“No!” Eunbi clutched Jaemin tighter. “Still too tall. Not good for Jaeminnie oppa. He’s scary. Too muscly.” 

Before Jaemin could try to convince Eunbi that Jeno was literally the nicest boy ever, his muscles were for a totally good reason, an extremely panicked voice cut through the air. 

"Eunbi! Eunbi!" Dr. Junmyeon yelled frantically, running towards the parlor, hair and suit askew, looking around wildly. 

“Over here!” Jaemin shouted, waving a hand in the air. 

Their principal raced over, eyes widening when he spotted Jaemin and Jeno, a relieved smile crossing his face. 

“Oh, thank god you found her. She keeps running away looking for you, Jaemin, and I just look down for a second, and she’s gone!” Their principal lamented, running and hand through his wild hair. “I thought she was kidnapped!” 

“We wouldn’t have let that happen,” Jeno assured him, standing back up and, after making a hesitant face, patted the older man’s shoulder. 

“I discipline high schoolers for a living, why can't I keep track of my daughter?" He mumbled dejectedly, looking put out. 

Jeno laughed sympathetically again, while Jaemin focused on readjusting the toddler on his lap, eyeing their principal from an odd angle because Eunbi was _just_ a little too tall to tuck her head under his chin like this. 

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Dr. Junmyeon realized Jaemin’s unique predicament, and he reached out for Eunbi, but the little girl clung to Jaemin, still. 

“Want to stay with Jaeminnie oppa!” The little girl protested. “Don’t want to go to stupid dinner!” 

Jaemin shot Jeno a panicked look. _Help me_ , he mouthed. 

The last thing he wanted to do right now was get in the middle of a temper tantrum or fight. He liked Eubi, the little girl was adorable after all, but Dr. Junmyeon was her parent...and his own principal, to boot. There was no way he was getting in the way of a family matter. 

Was that bad?

Probably. 

“You have to go with your dad, baby,” Jaemin murmured into Eunbi’s ear, adjusting the little girl on his lap so she could hear him better. “I’m sure I’ll see you again some time soon.” 

“But he’s making me go to a dumb dinner with his ‘lady friend’,” Eunbi whined, but matched Jaemin’s quiet tone, shaking her fists around in his shirt and hiding her face against the front of Jaemin’s neck. Her nose was pushing into his Adam’s apple, and it kind of tickled. 

As sad as it was to think about, Eunbi’s lack of a mother explained why her hair was a disaster and why her clothes didn’t match at all. _Not that men can’t have great fashion skills,_ Jaemin amended in his head, thinking of Johnny, _just that maybe Dr. Junmyeon is highly unequipped._

It was another thing Jaemin and Eunbi had in common (besides being adorable): they both only had one parent. 

Jaemin squeezed her closer, heart aching for the little girl. 

“Eunbi, please,” Dr. Junmyeon begged, staring pleadingly at his daughter and the teenagers holding her. 

“No dinner!” 

“Don’t you want to meet her?” Jaemin tried, craning his neck at an awkward angle to get the pigtails out of his mouth. It definitely hadn’t been the best idea for Jeno and him to play with her hair. ”See if she’s a good match for your dad?” 

“No!” Eunbi cried, squishing further into Jaemin. “No one can replace eomma,” Eunbi sniffled, finally releasing Jaemin’s shirt, making him breathe out a sigh of relief, before promptly throwing her arms around his neck. 

“Ah,” Jeno huffed, laughing quietly. “I guess we aren’t going home as soon as planned, huh, Nana?” 

By the time they had gotten Eunbi to calm down and release Jaemin, the couple was already running ten minutes later than the time they had told Jaemin’s mum he’d be home at. 

“Eomma’s going to have my head,” Jaemin griped, wheeling himself along as quickly as humanly possible. 

“Your mom is too nice for that,” Jeno replied, walking along leisurely next to Jaemin, not straining to keep up at all. His boyfriend’s steps were paced to exactly match Jaemin’s, and the younger was mentally griping about boyfriends with fucking long legs. Why did Jeno get to be taller than him? Hadn’t Jaemin suffered enough already?! 

“I think you’re just blinded by her absolute adoration for her future son in law.” 

“I did promise to take care of you forever, so,” Jeno agreed, looking over at Jaemin with a fond look on his face. 

“You know,” Jaemin pointed out after a few minutes, “I told you you didn’t have to take me home.” They reached the stoplight across from Jaemin’s house, and Jaemin turned to look up at his boyfriend. 

“And _you_ know,” Jeno countered, “that I said it wasn’t a problem at all.” The older took Jaemin’s hand and squeezed it, before gently pulling them off the wheels of his wheelchair and sticking them in his lap. 

Jaemin was about to protest when the light turned green, and Jeno pushed Jaemin off the sidewalk and onto the road, humming a song quietly under his breath. 

Affection bloomed in his heart, warm and buttery, as Jeno carefully manoeuvred him back up onto the sidewalk, taking care not to stub his feet on the curb. Not that Jaemin could feel it anyway, but the gesture was sweet. 

He knew why Jeno was doing this for him. It wasn’t hard to see that Jaemin was struggling to push himself today, had been for a few days, actually, but Jeno had picked up on it instantly. 

Truthfully, the spasms had been getting worse and more frequent, and it was taking a toll on Jaemin’s strength, both mentally and physically. He thought he’d been putting up a good front, but apparently not, if Jeno was able to see through it so easily. 

If they got much worse, another trip to Jungwoo appeared to be in order. 

“Thank you,” Jaemin murmured, reaching up to pat Jeno’s arm as he rolled Jaemin up to the front door. “You’re amazing, I feel like I don’t tell you enough.” 

“You’re welcome!” Jeno beamed at Jaemin, crescents curling into appearance, tempting Jaemin to pull him down for a kiss. 

So he did. 

The door burst open just as the kiss got a little more passionate, and Jaemin pulled away hastily, preparing to face his mum with a sheepish look. 

Instead, he found his mum staring at him, looking slightly frazzled, curling irons in her hair, expertly applied makeup, a relatively fancy (for them at least) dress on. 

“Hi Mrs. Na!” Jeno chirped cheerfully, poking Jaemin pointedly between the shoulderblades, a clear signal for ‘let me do all the talking’. 

“Hi Jeno,” Jaemin’s mum depanned, eyebrows raised, hands on her hips. “Did you need something?” 

“No, I’m sorry. I was just walking him home, but Jaemin and I got caught up with something.” 

“Something,” she repeated, an arched eyebrow raising high enough to graze her hairline. 

“Uh, yeah, you know, gah!” Jaemin stammered, wincing when Jeno pinched between his shoulders and twisted a little for not staying quiet. _That shit hurt!_

“I know.” Jaemin’s mum was looking sadistically amused by this, and Jaemin was starting to freak out even more. Was he about to be grounded or let off the hook? 

“If you can both tell me what you were doing at the same time, I won’t ground Jaemin.” 

Ah. Grounding it is, then. 

Jaemin just gulped. What was Jeno going to say? Eunbi or ice cream? Some far-fetched lie? Unlikely, since Jeno was such a goody-two shoes. 

Damn, he never should’ve told his mum that he was going out with Jeno. Not if every time he showed up late an interrogation followed.

_This is what I get for loving Eunbi,_ he griped, but the heat wasn’t really there. Jaemin just liked kids too much. 

“Ready?” Jaemin’s mum continued. “No? That sucks, 3, 2, 1.” 

“We went and got ice cream with Hyuck and Renjunnie, but this little girl ran away, and we had to bring her back to her dad.” 

“Ice cream!” Jaemin swallowed harder when Jeno’s statement ran much longer than his. 

“Close enough, get your ass inside the house right now, young man,” Jaemin’s eomma conceded, eyeing Jaemin and Jeno with a mildly suspicious look. 

“No punishment?” Jaemin slapped a hand over his mouth the second he said it, praying that his eomma wouldn’t doing anything just because he brought it back up. 

Gosh, Renjun was right: Jaemin really was an idiot. 

“I have enough faith in Jeno to know that he wouldn’t deflower you yet.” 

When Jaemin squawked in embarrassed protest, his eomma cracked a smile, stepping aside to let him in. “I’m teasing, get inside.” 

Jeno poked him again, this time as a request, and Jaemin began to ask, “Eomma, can Jeno-” 

“-Yes, he can stay for dinner, now _get inside,_ I have a date!” 

_A WHAT?!_

“Excuse me?” Jaemin protested, but his mum was already gone, disappearing to god knows where. 

“Tell me you didn’t hear Eomma say ‘date’,” Jaemin pleaded, turning his head to stare at his boyfriend. “I know that isn’t what she just said…” 

“I didn’t hear your eomma say that,” Jeno dutifully repeated, ever the faithful boyfriend, before ruining it by continuing, “but she totally did.” 

Jaemin slapped his shoulder in half-hearted outrage, pulling a face at him, before wheeling himself into the house with a snort. “To fuck with loyalty, apparently.” 

“Language!” Jeno chortled, beaming before running after Jaemin, who had sped off. “Gosh, I should wash that filthy mouth out with soap.” 

Jaemin had some choice words for Jeno, all of a sudden. Should he…? 

Once Jeno had caught up, Jaemin leveled him with a playfully suggestive look before declaring, “Perhaps you should see what this filthy mouth has to offer you first,” followed by a sleazy wink. 

This time Jeno was the one doing the slapping, blushing and giggling, but Jaemin moaned, “oh daddy”, and Jeno recoiled as if burnt. 

“Yah!” He yelped, staring at Jaemin with a disgustedly affronted look. “What the fuck, Jaemin-ah.”

Jaemin just laughed. “You should do it again. I’ve got three more responses ready.”

“God, why am I even dating you?” Jeno whined. 

“Cause you love me and want a piece of this hot body.” 

“Yah!” Jeno yelped, whacking Jaemin’s shoulder again, albeit half heartedly. 

Jeno’s scarlet red cheeks and ears just added to his appeal, Jaemin decided. _It was funny,_ he thought, _that we’ve been dating for such a short time, and yet, it’s like it’s been forever._ Of course, when it’s your best friend you’ve loved for years...well, certain awkward phases are skipped. 

Jeno, to his credit, didn’t move to whack him a third time, despite not receiving another lewd response, but the teenager looked like he was seriously considering it. 

Jaemin was seriously considering tugging Jeno onto the bed. 

“Are you boys getting ready?” Jaemin’s mum yelled through the house, interrupting Jaemin’s increasingly worsening train of thought. 

“Totally!” Jaemin yelled back, wiggling his eyebrows at Jeno, before wheeling over to his dresser to grab better clothes. 

“You did not just lie to your eomma.” 

“I did not,” Jaemin agreed, rolling back over to Jeno and tugging him down for a kiss. “Grab a button up from my closet. I’m sure there’s something that’ll fit you and your buffness.” 

“I’m not that buff!” Jeno protested, pouting cutely, and Jaemin just poked his bicep. Jeno huffed, but flexed obligingly, and Jaemin gushed over his lovely arms for a solid minute before remembering what he was supposed to be doing. 

“I need to go change,” Jaemin whined, stealing one more kiss from Jeno, “but I don’t want to go all the way in there.” 

“So change out here,” Jeno laughed. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.” 

“Yeah, but we’re dating now and I have my chastity to protect,” Jaemin whined again. 

“Who was just teasing me about kinks?” 

“Not me, that’s for sure!” Jaemin chirped, wheeling himself into the bathroom with his change of clothes, shutting the door behind him. 

He was sitting on top of the closed toilet seat wrestling with his immobile legs to try to get his ripped jeans off in favor of his un-ripped jeans, wondering who it was that he was supposed to meet at dinner tonight, when he realized that he hadn’t even gotten upset at all. His mother was going to introduce him to a new man, who was not his father, and Jaemin wasn’t upset. 

That was new. 

It wasn’t like he expected his eomma to never date again and yet, for years, it had felt like his dad deserved more than that. He deserved to be the only one. 

But Jaemin found himself not minding, this time. Six years, and he finally didn’t mind. 

His mum deserved love. She truly did. She deserved someone to look after her, someone who wasn’t Jaemin. Someone to pick up the slack with work, so their money wasn’t so tight. Someone to cherish her again, to make her laugh again. 

Jaemin’s appa would forever be her first love and her first husband, but he would’ve wanted her to live after he stopped. 

Humming thoughtfully to himself, Jaemin decided that he was going to pay his appa a visit this weekend, in a couple days. It had been a while, since his accident, and it was time for Jaemin to talk to him again. There was so much to tell. 

Having finally wrestled his clothes off, Jaemin reached for his button up and jeans, only to realize that his new clothes were too far away on the counter, just centimeters out of reach. Jaemin had forgotten to move them closer. 

Frowning, Jaemin tugged his wheelchair out of the way and went to grab his clothes. He had them in his hand in less than half a second before he looked down and realized he was standing, half leaning on the counter. 

_What the fuck—_

Instantly, Jaemin’s legs started trembling before they collapsed out from under him. His head slipped back and hit the edge of his wheelchair, sending a shock of pain through his skull. 

_What the fuck just happened?_

“Jaemin? Is everything okay?” Jeno’s knock sounded through the door. 

“Jeno, I need,” was all Jaemin managed before the world faded to black once more. 


	14. Chapter 14

Jaemin came to in a remarkably dark room, laid out on something soft and fluffy. A blind fumble around confirmed that it was his own bed, the fleece blanket from their living room laid out across the top of it. The material was smooth under his fingertips, the perfect mixture of roughness and silk, while something thicker and heavier was thrown across his body. Jaemin could feel plastisol ink letters, meaning it was probably a hoodie. 

He could see their neighbor’s lights just barely shining through the closed blinds across the room, the only light permeating the shadows surrounding him. It was relieving that there was so little illumination, however, because his temples were pounding something terrible. 

The sounds of cars driving past were quite loud in his recently recovered eardrums, and it was almost as if they were right behind him, chasing him down. Sniffing faintly, Jaemin determined that he smelled vaguely of Jeno’s student-council-is-stressing-me-out deodorant, super strong and fresh, as the label advertised. It had probably rubbed off from the hoodie. As strange as it sounded, Jaemin could almost taste the scent, heavy on his tongue. 

There was no evidence of his boyfriend, otherwise, and it made Jaemin’s heart sink a little. He wanted Jeno’s opinion on what happened, but more importantly, he needed to make sure Jeno was okay. 

What if his episode had affected his boyfriend negatively? Where did he go, anyway? He was supposed to stay for dinner...

It was totally silent in the house outside of his bedroom, and the crickets outside were deafening, replacing the sound of cars as parents returned home to their kids, rush hour most probably coming to a close. 

Hopefully no one was hit by a car this time. 

The bitter thought sent his head throbbing harder, and Jaemin could feel a certain stiffness above his eyebrows. Blinking hard confirmed his suspicions: there was a plaster across his forehead, pulling lightly on his skin any time he made a face. There was no cracking of dried blood, however, so Jeno must have cleaned it up for him. 

He sat up slowly, pushing the pillows behind him to prop himself up, feeling the burst of protest in the back of his legs. They were unusually stiff.

Frowning, he scratched his head, rubbing the haze out of his eyes, and stretched forward, reaching for his toes, covered by a blanket. The burn in the back of his thighs and hamstrings was refreshing, almost like it had been when he used to warm up before starting a run. 

For athletes, stretching was important. It helped reduce the risk of untimely and unwanted injuries, pulled muscles, and got your body ready to go. Plus it was relaxing. 

He still remembered getting stretching plans from his dad, sitting on the bench after a particularly long meet that had resulted in a sore hip. He had skipped his warmups in favor of running the track just one more time before the meet began, and when he came to a stop, the agony in his hip had sent shocks up his body. 

Jaemin remembered how much it had hurt to walk, to twist in any direction, even to just climb stairs because of the ache tucked securely into the front of his hip, just under the skin. 

His dad had explained it to him, telling him that if he stretched his hamstrings out better before hand, it wouldn’t hurt as bad. The pulling had been from tight and overworked hamstrings, and it had concentrated in the muscles of his hip joint. 

The stretches had been excruciating until Jaemin had worked on strengthening his pelvis, tirelessly doing hundreds of stretches throughout the day.

His dad had been proud of him. “Look at my Jaejae,” he had said, ruffling Jaemin’s hair. “All grown up and working hard.” 

After a month of hard work, the ache was a distant memory, and Jaemin was wiser than he had been before, a valuable lesson learnt. 

Don’t skip the intro in your rush to reach the end; there’s value in taking things slow. 

Take care of yourself because you only get one chance to live life in your own body. 

Jaemin wouldn’t forget either one again. 

He was halfway through stretching his left leg out when it truly registered that his leg was burning. It was burning with the stretch, tingles racing through the nerves in his legs. It was foreign, alien, and it shocked Jaemin into a gasp, staring at his despondent limbs. 

There was feeling in his legs. 

His paralyzed, spastic legs. 

His heart was about to beat out of his chest. 

Slowly, Jaemin focused on the appendage in front of him, his right leg, just the slightest bit crooked, and willed his brain to move it to the left and straighten out. He honed all of his brain power into that one command, aiming it at the muscles in his thigh, the muscles lining his pelvis, the ones in his calf, anything, everything, telling it to  _ move.  _

It didn’t. 

Jaemin flopped back onto the bed with a grunt, scowling, eyes welling up ever so slightly. Angrily, he swiped at his eyes, throwing his left arm over his eyes, blocking out the world. 

_ Why did I think that was going to work?  _

He was paralyzed, crippled from the waist down. Whatever the hell had happened in the bathroom was a fluke, a freak of nature, and it didn’t change anything. The stretches were inexplicable, an anomaly and a deviation from the norm, but nothing to be excited over. 

He wasn’t going to walk ever again. Jungwoo had told him, his other doctors had told him, it wasn’t going to happen. 

_ Take care of yourself because you only get one chance to live life in your body.  _

Jaemin’s body hadn’t been taken care of because it became broken.

A sob burst from his lips, guttural and pained, and Jaemin didn’t bother muffling it, letting it taint the serenity of the room with its suffering. Nobody was here to hear it anyway. 

More followed the first, hoarse and rough, screamed in anguish, yet barely audible, nothing more than hisses of air. They were silent but relieving, and Jaemin let them come.

A flow of salty tears raced down his cheekbones, sliding back and dripping onto his ears, wet and disgusting, but Jaemin couldn’t be bothered to wipe them away. 

Not when it felt like his heart had been removed, hacked apart, and returned with duct tape masking the cracks. Duct tape was a great temporary fix, but it would never be enough for a permanent wound. Not when it was ripped off daily, exposing Jaemin’s weakness to the world. 

It was like Tantalus, dangling a fruit in front of a starving man too high to obtain, standing in water too far away to collect. He was Icarus, believing he could fly high enough to touch the sun. 

But Tantalus was doomed as he was forever, to starve, to ache, and to thirst. 

And the sun wasn’t made to be touched. 

Jaemin wanted to rip off his skin, to rip the pain out of his chest, hold his heart in his hand, and rip off the duct tape, fix the hurt, repair his nerves, anything but this, anything but the constant pain. 

His nails scratched across his shirt, sharp and stabbing, rending the fabric horrifically. Sharp angles and hard keratin cut lines across his chest, but Jaemin couldn’t feel it. 

He had thought he was okay, he had thought he could handle it, but all it took was two seconds on his feet and Jaemin was back in that hospital bed for his 17 days, 13 hours, and 43 minutes. He was in a coma, loved ones begging for him to awaken; he was damaged. He was cuddling his friends after yelling at them, all four of them crammed into a hospital bed. He was being pushed around a park with Jeno; he was being beaten up at school for no reason. 

The squeak of the door sounded loud over his strangled sobs, and Jaemin wailed harder, tears falling onto his lips, curled up, bitten and chapped, stinging faintly. 

It didn’t matter if they watched him cry, whether it be Jeno or his eomma. 

They could learn just how weak he was too, finally understand how broken he was. 

Embarrassment was a concept for people with something to lose, and Jaemin’s dignity had been lost the minute his legs were. 

So Jaemin let it all out, soaking the sheets with his despair. 

A weight sunk into the bed next to him, placing a gentle dip in the mattress, causing Jaemin to slide to the left ever so slightly. Cool, familiar fingers brushed the hair off his forehead, pressing down lightly on his cheeks to wipe up the excess liquid, rings gliding across his skin. Scattered calluses scraped gently across the expanse of his face, telling the story of years of hard work. 

_ Eomma.  _

“I’m sorry, Eomma,” Jaemin choked out, voice crackling and breaking. “I didn’t mean to ruin your date.”

“A date can wait,” She announced, smiling fondly down at her son. “My son, however, shouldn’t have to.” 

Jaemin forced a tiny chuckle, lungs protesting the excess use of air. He hadn’t known crying could feel like you’d run a marathon. 

“Why don’t you tell Eomma what’s wrong?” 

Jaemin sucked in a rattly breath that made his dry mouth even drier, tongue thick and heavy in his mouth. He was certain that Jeno had already told her; she was just asking to be nice. 

“I stood.” 

Stunned silence filled the room, and Jaemin dared a glance at his mum, checking the expression on her face. 

She was as beautiful as ever, youthful looking, despite the years of hardship thrust upon her. Little wrinkles lined the corners of her eyes, remnants of smiles and laughter long past, the only evidence of her true age. 

Delicate makeup lined her eyes, the thinnest line of eyeliner decorating her bottom lash line, shimmery eyeshadow highlighting her chocolate brown eyes. 

His mum was dressed up, ready for her date, and Jaemin was just wasting her time. 

She didn’t deserve this. 

First, she became a widow much too soon, now, she was forced to take care of her incapacitated son, the exact opposite of what should be happening. Children were supposed to take care of their parents, after all. 

Guilt seized Jaemin’s heart, hooking its claws into the muscle and squeezing, twisting painfully. 

“Oh, Jaejae,” she whispered, after a pregnant pause, and caressed his cheek. Her eyes were sad, filled with raw emotion, a distant echo of Jaemin’s own. 

“It’s okay, eomma. It didn’t work very well,” Jaemin quipped, gesturing to his legs and laughing bitterly. “I’ll still be broken, no matter what.” 

“Don’t say that, Jaejae.” 

“Why not? It’s true. I’ll always be too damaged to be normal, to be with Jeno, to be your son. I’ll never be enough because I’m half the person I used to be.” 

“You’re not half a person now, Jaejae,” his eomma countered, looking extremely saddened by the statement. “I know you see being paralyzed as the end of your world, but it isn’t if you don’t let it be. Not being able to walk does not make you less of a man. Would you say that a person who is born into a wheelchair is half the person they could’ve been? Or are they simply dealt more challenges than you and I were? Would you say that your friend Jongin is any less talented and strong because he has only one leg, or that he’s even more so because of it?” 

Jaemin’s heart clenched yet again, but this time it was in shame. How cruel was it to suggest that other people were worth less because they weren’t able to do what he was born doing? Maybe that wasn’t what he meant, not even close, but it was what he was implying, wasn’t it? 

He would do well to remember this conversation. 

Next time he was feeling down, he would have to remember this. He might have been able to walk when he was born, but having it taken away was already more than many other people got to have. He could remember how it felt to stand on two legs, and that was an experience that other paraplegics might never have. 

Jaemin would be grateful next time. 

“I understand, eomma. I’m sorry. That’s not what I intended at all. ” Jaemin tilted his head up to look at his mum, smiling faintly. 

“It’s okay, baby. Everyone makes mistakes.”

“I know, eomma.” 

“You know that I love you regardless, right?” She murmured, looking down into her son’s eyes and smiling back. She hugged him close, pulling him into her lap, cuddling him close to her torso. 

“It makes no difference to me whether or not you are in a wheelchair or towering over your poor eomma.” She cracked a crooked smile. “You are my child, Jaemin, and I will love you forever.” 

“I-” Jaemin paused, eyes softening. “I love you too, eomma.” 

She cuddled him close for another minute, before ruffling his hair. “Are you ready to go outside?” 

“No…” Jaemin tucked himself even smaller and clung to his mum. 

“Come on, Jaejae,” His Eomma insisted, laughing. “You’ll get to meet my date, baby.” 

“Don’t want to.” It sounded petulant, but Jaemin didn’t want to move. He’d rather bask in his eomma’s love for just a few more minutes. 

“I promise he’s nice? He’ll love you!” She shook Jaemin a little in emphasis, cupping his face in her hands. 

Jaemin huffed a laugh, wet and gross sounding, voice cracking horrendously. “Can I freshen up first?” 

“Of course, love.” She bent down to press a kiss to Jaemin’s forehead. “I’ll send Jeno over to help you get to the tub.” 

“He’s still here?” Jaemin hated the hopeful lilt to his voice as his mother laughed. 

“Yes, your lovely boyfriend is still here, Jaejae. He’s probably sitting outside the door, trying not to eavesdrop too hard. It was nearly impossible to move him outside until you woke up.” 

Mrs. Na crossed over to the door and opened it, and sure enough, a dark-haired boy with a chiselled jawline fell backwards onto the floor, smiling sheepishly. 

“Hi? I swear I didn’t hear anything important!” 

“Go get ready,” Mrs. Na repeated, fondly. “He’ll be here any minute now.” 

“Who is he?” Jaemin asked tentatively, as Jeno picked himself up off the floor in one smooth move, shirt riding up his back. For a split second, Jeno’s delicious back muscles were exposed, erasing all sad thoughts from Jaemin’s mind. 

Maybe there was time for a shower for two?

Was it too soon for that? 

Probably. 

He could be patient, enjoy every day with Jeno. Just because he was hot didn’t mean Jaemin had to jump him...but maybe a kiss would be nice. 

“I saw that look! No funny business!” His eomma yelled as she swung the bedroom door shut behind her. 

“Hey!” 

“Let’s go, Nana,” Jeno laughed, scooping Jaemin up bridal style. “We’ve got to get you looking all pretty again.” 

Jaemin glared up at his boyfriend as he was deposited on the tub’s edge, and Jeno started the bath water. 

“I look pretty all the time.” 

“I agree.” Jeno kissed his chastely on the lips, placing his towel in Jaemin’s lap. “Don’t take too long to get ready. Yell when you need me.” 

Before Jeno could walk out, however, Jaemin caught his wrist. 

“Thank you for saving me, Jen. You didn’t have to, and you certainly didn’t have to stay and wait.” 

Jeno’s smile sweetened. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update should take 2-4 weeks again. Thank you for reading <33333333


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry I’m a day late!! I totally lost track of time! I’m honestly struggling a little with this story, and my outline has taken a hit and a rewrite, so I’ve been all discombobulated. That being said, I’m having trouble telling if this is getting too boring (which I feel like it has been), so I’m hoping to get one day to just sit down and write, no interruptions, in order to clean up my plot. This, unfortunately, has been made a little easier by the ongoing pandemic since I now have more downtime, so my next update is going to be in the next 1-2 weeks. The stress of everything is making it hard to write, so I apologize if the quality is lacking. I hope that everyone stays as safe as possible during this trying time, and hopefully, we’ll all make it out okay. Fighting haeyadwae!

By the time Jaemin was done with his bath and fully dressed, he could hear voices out at the front of the house. He didn’t even need Jeno’s help because Jaemin was flexible, and if he held on to the edge of the tub, he could reach his wheelchair to tug it over. 

And so, fully ready to go, Jaemin wheeled himself out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, grabbing a hair comb and running through his hair absentmindedly before chucking it back on the bed. 

If his eomma’s boyfriend didn’t like what he looked like toned down and messy-haired, so be it. He’d be gone in no time if that was the case. His eomma was nothing if not protective when it came to her son. If the new guy didn’t like him...well, Jaemin wouldn’t mind too much. He’d be polite, make no mistake, but this _was_ for his eomma. If the dude was a douche, then Jaemin wasn’t going to pull any punches. His mum deserved the best, of course.

But surely she wouldn’t have brought home a bad man. 

Jaemin would have to give him a chance. 

But still...it was his eomma!

As Jaemin made his way to the foyer, the voices became more distinct and less distorted, and Jaemin could almost swear he recognized the male one…

Before Jaemin could investigate though, he was intercepted halfway through the hallway by Jeno, tugging him into the dining room that connected to the main hall. 

“Do you know who—mmph.” Jaemin was cut off by insistent lips pressed against his own, warm and inviting. Jeno’s hands were cupping his face, fingers laced behind the curve of his ears, and Jaemin’s head tilted automatically to allow better access. Teeth bit into Jaemin’s lip, coaxing a groan out as his hands rose to grasp Jeno’s biceps. A bit-off grunt followed from Jeno as Jaemin deepened the kiss, begging Jeno for entrance. 

Maybe there was time for a ‘shower’, indeed. 

An intriguing flurry of sounds came out of Jeno’s mouth as he did, muffled by Jaemin’s lips, and any other time, Jaemin would’ve recorded them for research purposes because _holy shit_ did Jeno sound good as fuck. 

Honestly, he would’ve waited a lifetime for kissing this good. 

Heat was starting to coil inside of him, lighting Jaemin on fire from the inside out. They had to break apart for the smallest of seconds, foreheads touching, panting against each other’s lips. Jeno’s was moist against his own spit-slick lips, and his boyfriend sounded utterly debauched. 

His hands wandered up Jeno’s arms to his chest, smoothing over his pecs, gliding up over his neck, tangling in his boyfriend’s hair. A single tug had Jeno letting out those delicious sounds again, and Jaemin drank them up, high on Jeno’s taste. 

A knock on the doorframe made the couple rip away from each other, however, and Jeno hurried to straighten up, working a kink out of his neck surreptitiously. Jaemin’s own check included his hair and also his pants, but there was nothing too incriminating, so it was all good there. 

Jaemin’s mum was standing in the doorway, smiling a rather knowing smile. “And this is my son, Jaemin, who you might already know, and his friend, Jeno, who’s staying for dinner.” She stepped aside to let her date pass, and in stepped someone that Jaemin knew quite well. 

Dr. Junmyeon stood in the doorway, looking quite spiffy in a waistcoat paired with simple slacks. His hair was mussed neatly, and he looked not at all as professional as he had at school. 

“Close your mouth,” Jeno muttered helpfully, nudging Jaemin’s shoulder with his fist. 

Jaemin did, then sucked in a gasp when a little girl peered around Dr. Junmyeon’s leg, clutching that now-familiar rabbit. 

“Eunbi?”

“Jaeminnie-oppa?” 

They stared at each other for a solid twenty seconds before Eunbi was running and Jaemin was moving forward. 

“Eunbi!” 

“Oppa!” 

Eunbi scrambled up onto his lap, throwing her arms around his neck once again, kicking him quite hard in the groin in the process. All happiness was erased by _pain,_ and Jaemin was seriously about to die _._ It was practically impossible to bend over to quench the pain with a little girl in his lap, and he certainly wasn’t going to inform her of why it hurt like hell, but _oh my god, why_. 

Jeno and Junmyeon’s sharp inhales of sympathy were of little consolation as Eunbi sat down and proceeded to _bounce around_ , and Jaemin had quite honestly never been in more physical pain before. Even getting hit by that truck hadn’t hurt so bad because he had passed out instantly! This was his dick that was being fucking annihilated. Who knew he’d ever wish he’d lost feeling there too, one day, but here they were. 

This day was just getting more and more intriguing. 

“Eunbi,” Jaemin gasped, wishing for all the world that he could squirm around, “p-please stop b-bouncing.” 

“What, why?” Eunbi bounced one more particularly violent time, and Jaemin actually whined this time. To his credit, Dr. Junmyeon was swooping in milliseconds later, he and scooped Eunbi off his lap, swinging his daughter up onto his hip. 

“That’s enough of that, baby,” he chuckled nervously, mouthing an apology to Jaemin from behind her head. Jaemin bent over, finally able to, and mourned his injury, but nodded shakily to acknowledge his principal. 

“Time to eat!” Jaemin’s mum called, having apparently left the room, gone into the kitchen, and totally missed out on Jaemin’s humiliation session. 

Well, that was one thing going in his favor tonight. 

Jeno rubbed his back for a second, before leading Dr. Junmyeon and Eunbi to the table and giving Jaemin a second to recover. 

By the time Jaemin could stop hissing in breath, his eomma had already gotten dinner spread out across the table, and Jeno had wheeled him over to his spot, dropping a bag of ice into his lap discreetly before squeezing the nape of his neck reassuringly. 

The actual dinner passed without a hitch, the only complication when Eunbi complained about having to eat vegetables, as every self-respecting minor does at least twice in their life. To Jaemin’s chagrin, however, his eomma didn’t make Eunbi eat them as she had forced Jaemin to when he was younger, and instead, simply laughed indulgently. 

Jaemin found that Junmyeon (as he was now instructed to call the man), was much less rigorous and disciplined outside of the academy. The man cracked quite a few terrible jokes from time to time, and he treated Jeno, Jaemin, and most importantly, his eomma with the utmost respect and kindness throughout the meal. He was actually quite sweet when they prepared to leave, helping clean up dinner, despite Mrs. Na’s protests, and even ruffled Jaemin’s hair affectionately before scooping up his dozing daughter. 

“Well, thank you for having us, Sooyi.” Junmyeon smiled warmly, cheeks dimpling ever so slightly. “Dinner was excellent, and I think my little Eunbi had a lot of fun. She and Jaemin have quite the connection. And, of course, I had a lovely time getting to meet your son officially.” He winked at Jaemin just as he had done as he had handed him a permanent late pass to class, all those months ago, and Jaemin felt his heart swelling with something hopeful. 

“It was nice to have you, D—Junmyeon,” Jaemin admitted, smiling slightly, guiding the Kims to the door. “I’m afraid I had my doubts.” 

Junmyeon, to his credit, only laughs quietly, eyes curving up endearingly. “I’m glad to know I passed.” 

Jaemin’s glad too. Junmyeon seems like a good man. And Eunbi would be an amazing little sister that Jaemin could pamper and love and spoil… 

“Anywho,” Mrs. Na announced, skidding into the foyer very maturely in stockinged feet, “we won’t keep you here any longer, Junmyeon.” She went to open the door for them, pressing a kiss to Eunbi’s forehead as Junmyeon passed, and Jaemin’s heart sung. Who would have thought that his eomma would meet Eunbi and be just as charmed as Jaemin and Jeno had been? 

“Wait, Sooyi!” Junmyeon called, right as Jaemin’s mum closed the door. She hurried to re-open it, looking more hopeful than Jaemin has seen her in years. It’s a good look on her, and he thinks that maybe he could get used to seeing it. 

“Yes?”

“Can I pick you up next Friday after your shift?” 

“Oh,” Mrs. Na breathed. “Oh, yes, that’d be lovely!” 

“I’m glad to hear that.” Junmyeon smiled charmingly again, and before Sooyi and Jaemin could blink, he stepped forward and planted a kiss to her cheek before waving cheerfully at Jaemin and gently closing the door. 

“Damn, go Mrs. Na!” Jeno cheered suddenly from the dining room doorway, breaking the stunned silence. Jaemin turns to level an incredulous look at him, and Jeno is leaning against the doorframe giggling cutely. 

“I—what,” Jaemin’s mum stammered before getting it together and retorting with a very eloquent, “Jeno-yah!” 

Jeno giggled harder. “Someone had to say it, Sooyi-ssi!”

Mrs. Na shot him a baleful look before flouncing away. As soon as she was out of sight, Jaemin doubled over fake retching and gagging. 

“I just watched another man kiss my mother!” He whined, clutching at Jeno desperately. “That was disgusting and I need to bleach my eyeballs!” 

“It was just her cheek. You’ll get over it.” Jeno’s laughter was fond, though, a knowing look in his eyes as he steers Jaemin back to his bedroom, where they usually hang out. Jaemin snagged a box of cookies off the couch as they passed it, planning on continuing to bemoan the horrific sight he had just witnessed to his boyfriend, but his mom intercepted them in the hall, hands outstretched dramatically. 

“Halt!” She cried, grinning goofily at them. In the short period of time that they’d been separated, she’d already managed to change out of her dress and remove half of her makeup, evidenced by one kohled, shimmery eye and one normal one. “You shall not pass until I get your word not to do the nasty in Jaejae’s bedroom!” 

“Eomma!” Jaemin whined petulantly, blushing yet again for the nth time that night. “What the heck?” Of all people to tell him not to be nasty! Here she was kissing other men behind Jaemin’s back! Did he know she had a boyfriend before tonight? No! Case closed! 

“What kind of man do you think I am?” Jeno protested too, looking scandalized and strangely put-out by the notion that he could be anything other than a gentleman. Jaemin really wanted to squish his puffed-out cheeks, but he figured that probably wouldn’t be helping their case. 

“A horny teenager.” Sooyi laughed at the affronted look on Jeno’s face, before crooning, “but I know that you’re secretly a sap at heart, Jeno. I’m not worried about you two.” She bent down to kiss Jaemin and smooth the hair out of his face before also pressing a kiss to Jeno’s cheek, patting it affectionately. The teenager in question blushed at the crude language and shot pleading eyes at Jaemin who just cackled mercilessly. 

“But I am serious!” Mrs. Na continued, pinching Jeno’s cheek to emphasize her point. “I better not hear anything weird tonight! If I do, Jaemin’s grounded for life, and you’re never sleeping in the same room as him again, Jeno! Oh, and I’ll tell your mother!” Both boys paled instantly before mortification took over and left them red in the face. 

“Jeno, don’t forget to call you eomma or Jaehyunnie to tell them you’re staying the night, love you both, sleep tight!” Sooyi chirped, waltzing away down the hallway, humming Lucky by EXO, extracting a few more gags from Jaemin. 

“Jeno?” Jaemin grumbled as he hauled himself onto his bed, unbuttoning his dress shirt. 

“Mm?”

“Tonight kinda sucked.” Jaemin flopped back onto the sheets, arms spread wide, enjoying the feeling of aircon on his bare chest. He could see Jeno eyeing him curiously, but he didn’t comment. 

“I know, baby. Our ice cream date was fun though.” Jeno crawled onto the bed next to him, hovering over Jaemin to press a leisurely kiss to his lips before crawling behind him, laughing when Jaemin opened his eyes and whined. 

“I guess that’s true.” Jaemin jutted out his lip and gave Jeno his best puppy eyes, and Jeno semi-gave in, tucking him up under his arm and holding him to his chest. Jaemin smiled a little, sinking into the warm embrace. _This is good enough for me,_ he mused, contentedly as Jeno called his mum, phone resting lightly on top of Jaemin’s head. 

“Jen?” Jaemin asked when he was done. 

“Yeah?”

“Do you think I’ll learn how to walk again?” Jaemin rolled over to look into Jeno’s eyes as the older boy put his phone away and studied Jaemin back. 

His boyfriend’s expression was pensive. “I mean, you did stand today. Even if it was for only a few seconds, which is definitely unique. It’s not to say that that couldn’t be done, though. If I held you up, I think you could prop yourself up on your feet, so long as it was the right angle. The thing that’s intriguing, however, is that you got up on your own.” 

“Yeah.” Jaemin flopped back down and stared at the ceiling. Was it so wrong to hope for recovery? “But do you think I will?” 

“I don’t know if I can say anything,” Jeno replies carefully, brushing Jaemin’s bangs off his forehead. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I don’t want you to give up on it, you know?” 

“I guess. That makes sense, Jen, I just wish it wasn’t like that.” 

“I know, baby. Life sucks.” 

Jeno didn’t say anything else, and Jaemin decided to just leave it at that, despite feeling like they were both talking about different things, worlds apart in their thought processes. 

  
  


Jaemin woke up in the middle of the night to Jeno’s cell phone ringing. After five dials, the sounds cut back out and stayed quiet for a little, making Jaemin settle back in, relaxing. _It must not be that important. Who would call in the middle of the night anyway and just hang up?_

But the ringtone picked back up seconds later, persistent and sonorous. Jaemin had never wanted Promise by EXO to stop playing more. 

Under him, Jeno shifted a little, removing an arm from Jaemin’s torso to grasp at his phone located somewhere behind his pillow. 

Jaemin felt more than heard his sharp inhale as the call timed out again, and the ringing resumed before Jeno’s phone illuminated the walls around them as the boy answered the call. 

Jeno’s increasingly frantic whispers were unintelligible to Jaemin’s tired brain as his ears struggled to filter through the mindless fog of sleep. He could feel Jeno moving around on the mattress behind him, and his breathing was much faster, almost jostling Jaemin’s head around on his chest. 

“What’s going on? Who is it? Is something wrong?” Jaemin’s voice was shot, and some of the syllables definitely came out funny, but his boyfriend didn’t even explain anything, just shushing him quickly. Jaemin frowned at the dismissal, head clearing a little. _What’s making him act so stressed? It’s not like him to ignore me like that..._

“Are you sure?” Anger was definitely lacing Jeno’s voice, sharp and unyielding, as he listened to whoever was on the other side of the line. “Okay,” Jeno acquiesced, sounding anything but happy. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Don’t do anything.” He was up and moving, shoving Jaemin off of him, causing his legs to splay out awkwardly as Jeno accidentally kicked them out of the way. Jaemin’s head fell back into the mattress unceremoniously with little care, and he watched Jeno grab his jacket from Jaemin’s dresser feeling confused and wounded. His boyfriend also fished Jaemin’s keys out of his dresser, as he watched, stealing a ball cap along the way. 

“Jeno? What’s wrong?” Jaemin repeated, sitting up in the bed, abs protesting the abrupt movement compared to the angle of his legs. Just because they were useless didn’t mean they couldn’t be little bitches when they wanted to be. “Where are you going? What’s going on? Who was that?” 

“Something came up,” Jeno grunted, sitting down on the edge of the bed to lace up his sneakers. “I need to go. I’m sorry, sleep tight Jaemin.” Jeno was already out the door without a goodbye before Jaemin could even demand more answers, and when he yelled for him to be careful, Jeno was already closing the front door, the sound of his keys turning in the lock just barely audible. 

Jaemin stared at his bedroom door with unseeing eyes, trying to fathom what had just happened. From the near-silence of the city, it was very early in the morning, long before the sun could rise and long after all the bars had closed. It had to be at least two, if not later. So why would Jeno be in such a rush to leave? More importantly, what was so bad that he didn’t have ten seconds to explain why he was leaving abruptly and why he was tossing Jaemin around like a rag doll? And why did he take Jaemin’s keys with him? 

There was something very suspicious about Jeno’s behavior, and Jaemin just hoped that it wasn’t anything serious. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I hope anyone still sticking it out with this story enjoys this new chapter! I actually had something I’d been meaning to get off my chest this week: the new kudos software AO3 is implementing. It can be found in the news page, and their work is definitely important, in my humble opinion, but what truly grabbed my attention was the heated debate in the comments. It can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/15178), and it’s definitely fascinating to read through. I just wanted to throw in my own opinion on the matter, and that is that I genuinely love and appreciate all kudos that you, my readers, are willing to give. They are important, to me, and give me a way to see how much love my stories are receiving!  
> That being said, I also agree with many of the pro-comment users who cherish comments dearly. Comments are very fulfilling to most authors, myself included, because they take showing appreciation just a little step higher and can provide genuine feedback and reactions to the stories and chapters I upload. Any and all comments are appreciated because they take time to write, even if they’re as simple as an emoji or a “kudos”, and it makes my day to know that someone, even if it’s just one person, has wanted to tell me what they thought about the piece I’ve put genuine time into. They provide such strong motivation for me when I’m down, and they couldn’t be appreciated more. Writers primarily write for themselves, but positive feedback can do wonders :) Phew, that was lengthy!
> 
> TL;DR any and all comments and kudos are precious to struggling authors like me
> 
> Quick disclaimer: I’m 100% NOT a medical professional. The actual mechanics of therapy are far beyond me; I’ve only been through PT, and certainly not for paralysis. Take this with a grain of salt because research can only get you so far 
> 
> Thank you for taking your time to read this, I appreciate all of you. I hope everyone stays safe and healthy until the next time (hopefully in 1-2 weeks)! Maybe this story can become a refuge for you, who knows. 
> 
> To medical workers and essential personal, your time, sacrifices, and effort are not going unnoticed, and I hope you know how appreciated and highly-regarded you are. Your selfless work is outstanding to everyone, and I hope all of you, especially, stay protected and healthy.
> 
> ~SDM
> 
> <3

“Okay, can you do one more curl up for me? I want to measure your bicep while it’s flexed again. You’ve built up quite the muscle mass!” Jungwoo was like a breath of fresh air, all cheerfulness and encouraging praise. His advice and feedback on Jaemin’s hard work was refreshing and useful, taking his mind off of all the things swirling around in it. 

Jaemin did as he was asked, and Jungwoo attached the flexible tape measure to his arm with an adhesive to make the centimeters line up. 

“So, what are you doing this for?” Jaemin asked, as Jungwoo plopped back into his desk chair and spun towards the computer to enter the centimeters into the spreadsheet that he’d been keeping for months. “It doesn’t strike me as very medical.” 

“Oh!” Jungwoo peered over his shoulder and grinned at him. “I’m not sure it does much in terms of your health, but it’s an excellent tracker for yourself to see how much your muscle mass has grown through ‘normal’ means! You can compare yourself to all the other masculine boys in gym class! Isn’t that simply magical!” 

Jaemin gave him a look. “Excuse me?” 

“You know! Proving who’s more macho and tough in school? It was a big deal when I was younger, is it not now?” He blinked big, owlish eyes at Jaemin, wide and childlike from behind his glasses. 

Jaemin shook his head to clear his thoughts, narrowing his eyes at the cute therapist. What was his husband feeding him? Normal adults weren’t so...squishy! “It...is. It’s just not something I ever paid much attention to. Hyuck, Renjun, and I are far from being the fitness junkies, so we just kind of left them alone.” Jungwoo was still eyeing him quizzically, and Jaemin started fidgeting with the hair at the base of his neck nervously. 

“What? Why do you keep looking at me like that?” 

“What aren’t you telling me?” 

“What?” 

“What aren’t you telling me? You’re not telling me about something. I can tell. Your aura is very stressed.” 

“I...what?” 

“Did the spasms not stop? Are they still going? Is it just a life thing that’s upsetting you, or is it health related? Do I need to be worried? As your doctor, it’s extremely important to me that you stay healthy!” 

Jaemin blinked at him. “The spasms haven’t stopped, no, but we agreed they weren’t too dangerous right now.” 

“Hm.” Jungwoo pushed his glasses up his nose, persona shifting into a more professional one. “Well, if that’s the only problem, then I’d like to try something new today, if that’s alright with you?” 

“Sure?” Jaemin shot a dubious look at Jungwoo. It was unlike the therapist to give in so easily. This was definitely a trap. 

“Can you come over here?” 

Jaemin obliged, rolling over to the set of bars framing the sides of the walls. There was just enough space between them to fit a wheelchair, catty corner, and it had Jaemin’s arms aching already at the thought of having to brace himself on them. It was already agonizing enough to do it anytime he had to go to the bathroom, and more so after Jungwoo had been murdering his arms for a solid hour. 

“Just back in here, yup, that’s good, Jaemin.” Jungwoo stepped out from behind him and beamed angellically, clasping his hands together with a loud sound. “Now, can you lift yourself out of the wheelchair a few times for me? With your eyes closed, if you would.” 

“Okay?” Jaemin wiggled in his chair a little before he got situated and could get a good grasp on the bars. “Now?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Jaemin closed his eyes and pushed up, biceps and forearms straining. After a few seconds, he plopped back down, trembling a little. He cracked his eyes open a hair to see what Jungwoo was doing before snapping them shut hastily when the therapist caught him looking. 

“Eyes closed!” He admonished, laughing. “This isn’t going to work if you don’t focus! Okay, again?” 

“Yeah,” Jaemin huffed, cringing as a sweat droplet ran down his brow and dripped over his eyelid. “Just one second please?” 

“Of course!” 

He inhaled a deep breath, thinking of how his old running coach had taught them to maximize their oxygen to make the run less taxing. _One breath in, five sips out._ Taking another breath, Jaemin hauled himself up out of the chair again, muscles screaming. Perhaps he’d have to start spending time at the gym with Jeno to build up some legitimate bulk. People told him he looked enough like an idol…maybe he could pull off the buff, pretty boy look too? 

“Okay, eyes open now, please? I just need one more second. Doing okay, Jaemin?” Jungwoo sounded as happy as ever, writing something down on his clipboard and smiling at him encouragingly. 

“Yeah,” Jaemin gritted out, managing a tiny half-smile as he sank back down. A shower was definitely in his future because all this sweat was downright disgusting. “Again?” 

“If you can, that would be lovely. If not, it’s okay too. You’ve worked really hard today.” 

“I can do one more.” By now, the pain was honestly arbitrary, and Jaemin was totally going to be ripped after this session. Honestly, he could feel the muscles building in his arms, all of his cells constructing the bulges at a rapid pace. 

But maybe it was a bit too much. 

“Jungwoo,” Jaemin hissed, “is this enough yet?” 

“Almost.” Jungwoo smiled. “Close your eyes and envision your happy place, first?” 

Jaemin groaned. It hadn’t even been three seconds yet, so it wasn’t like this was that long, but Jaemin’s arms begged to differ and certainly didn’t want to find their happy place right now. They wanted to be happily resting on his wheels and not having the workout of their lives. He was _never_ going to complain about gym class workouts again! 

He tried to direct his mind towards his grandma’s house, where cooking was a daily marathon that Jaemin could lose himself in. He tried to remember making tteokbokki in eight different ways, ten different melon-flavored desserts and snacks, and learning to cook bulgogi for the first time. He remembered forcing his appa to try the food, who happily obliged, while his eomma giggled and ruffled his hair. 

His arms hurt. 

He tried to think about laughing with his mum about cheesy lines in dramas, where they could cuddle on the couch for hours and not think about work and school. Jaemin would’ve popped popcorn for them to share, while his eomma busted out their sugary drinks that typically stayed in the fridge until they were far past their expiration date. 

His arms really hurt. 

Jaemin thought about lounging on the school roof with Donghyuck when they were in primary school, having snuck up through the ladder in the janitor’s closet. He remembered the first time they met Renjun, in junior school, and the chaos that ensued when Donghyuck happily dragged the transfer student up to their new school’s roof, blindfolded and screaming, and shoved him at Jaemin. He remembered trying to explain to Renjun that no, they weren’t serial killers, and they weren’t about to kill him. He remembered the day when Jeno learned what they had been doing every day when they disappeared from lunch, before he promptly demanded to be brought up too which they refused to do. In a fit of pettiness, Jeno had told on them, earning the nickname No-jaem. 

Jaemin smiled internally a little, thinking about how young they were back then. They’d have to start climbing again. If there was anything they’d learned, it was that most schools weren’t very creative with their roof-access locations, and it was high time they got into some trouble. Maybe they could strap him to Jeno’s back and make his boyfriend pull him up? 

Jungwoo’s voice interrupted his brain’s beginning pitiful whine that _his arms hurt_ , saying, “Remember that memory, Jaemin? Now, channel that moment, okay?” Jaemin heard Jungwoo shuffle something around, before his voice was suddenly a lot closer as he said, “now come here.” 

Jaemin’s body responded without a warning, lurching forward, and suddenly, Jaemin was moving. His eyes shot open, just in time to see Jungwoo’s face remarkably close to his, before he was falling into the physical therapist’s arms. 

“Hiya!” Jungwoo chirped, before hefting Jaemin up and plopping him back in his wheelchair. 

“What—how—why—”

“I knew it was going to work! I bet it’s happened before, once, right? Maybe more than once!” Jungwoo was right up in his face, and Jaemin leaned back a little to stare at the man. “No way, that’s why you were so quiet today! Was it this week? Last? When was the last time I saw you?” Suddenly, Jungwoo was out of his face and rushing to his desk chair, halfway across the room, and frantically scrolling through his calendar for the date. 

Jaemin, however, was simply staring at his therapist, trying to comprehend what had happened, again. He had stood, even walked to Jungwoo? Or had he just swung himself forward enough to fall? 

A pair of spectacles abruptly whizzed through the air, and Jaemin snapped an arm out to catch them, blinking in confusion. 

“Um, don’t you need these to see, hyung?” 

“Nope! I’m running on pure happiness! Who needs to see when they can use endorphins instead!” 

Jaemin blinked again. 

“Okay…” 

Jungwoo crowed happily when he found the date of Jaemin’s last appointment on the calendar, spinning around in his desk chair pumping his fists in the air and kicking his legs, before he swiftly stopped and zoomed towards Jaemin, an infectious smile still radiating sunshine everywhere. 

It was kind of blinding, and Jaemin felt very intimidated. 

“So!” Jungwoo looked at Jaemin expectantly. “First of all, I’m sad, hurt, and utterly disappointed that you didn’t say anything to me about this yet.” 

Jaemin squawked a protest as hot shame crawled up his cheeks. “No one said it had happened before!” He defended weakly. _Actually, I was too pissed at myself that I totally forgot about it._

“But has it?” Jungwoo countered, raising an eyebrow. “Judging by the look on your face, which is as pale as a sheet, I might add, it has, and you didn’t tell me, if my memory serves?” 

Jaemin wilted. “It did…” 

“Ha!” Jungwoo celebrated silently for another second, before fixing Jaemin with another serious look. “So, now that we’ve established that you need to actually tell me things in order to make progress with your condition, I’d like to give you a new diagnosis.” Jungwoo flipped the clipboard towards Jaemin, allowing the teenager to skim over the words. 

_Patient has spastic paralysis symptoms, along with typical spinal cord injuries. However, I would like to suggest that his paralysis is not entirely physical, but also mental. Perhaps Mr. Na Jaemin is suffering some psychological trauma from the accident, as well as physical. I would like to propose a new treatment that involves mild psychiatric therapy (with Dr. Kim Jungwoo) to overcome the trauma, as well as an increased focus on muscular therapy in his legs. I believe that our original diagnosis is not all-encompassing, and that it might have included too many regions of muscular paralysis, after meeting with my patient for a few months and observing his progress._

Jaemin eyed the write-up with a strange feeling starting to flood his body. Was Jungwoo saying what he thought he was saying? 

“Jungwoo…” Jaemin could hardly dare to breathe. “What do you mean by ‘mental paralysis’?” 

“Oh! So, I think your brain was negatively affected by the car accident you were in. I do want to stress that it’s totally normal, though, before I continue, and many accident victims have lots of trouble returning to normal life after the incidents. I think that, while your spinal cord was certainly damaged quite severely, some of your paralysis is not from internal injury, but rather from trauma. There’s a psychological condition, actually, that stems from a similar concept, known as conversion disorder, which was suggested by Dr. Kwon. It comes from stress and trauma, and the symptoms line up with your current condition quite well, actually, but I don’t think it’s what you have. Rather, I simply think there’s a chance that your body has been healing more than you think it has been, and I’d like to see how we can increase that progress. I don’t want to make you too hopeful, but I think we could get your nerves to recognize some feeling, at the very least. I’m sorry, am I making sense?” 

“Are you serious?” Jaemin asked slowly, clutching Jungwoo’s glasses in his shaking hands. “You think I can recover because the paralysis is mental?” 

Jungwoo paused for a second, suddenly looking very old and sad. “I don’t want to tell you that you’ll recover, okay, kiddo?” He started, placing a comforting hand on Jaemin’s knee. “It’s not something that I can ensure, and I don’t feel comfortable telling you that as if I can.” Jaemin slumped back in his seat, heart sinking. “However,” Jungwoo continued, “I don’t think that you are entirely paralyzed from the waist down. Your ability to move, even if mostly subconsciously, is too big of a contradictor. My goal, if the statement goes through, which, I’m sure it will, is to try to help you overcome the potential mental block you might have, in order to improve your chance at recovery. If nothing else, it will give your mind a sense of peace to come to terms with the accident. I imagine it’s very difficult to go through.” 

Jaemin nodded quietly, trying to process Jungwoo’s information. Jungwoo was right when he predicted that he had trauma from the accident. It wasn’t hard to see, and Jaemin himself had been trying to deny it for too long. He knew his friends were well aware of it, especially after Jaemin jumped when a car turned in front of them at an intersection. In addition to being jumpy, it was about time Jaemin addressed the fact that he hated everything to do with his new disability. His talk with his eomma, the distaste for letting others push him, the initial transition _into_ the wheelchair...Maybe Jungwoo could help him deal with it in healthier ways. Jaemin was willing to try. 

As for the second option...

The chance to walk again...it was unimaginable. It was everything Jaemin dreamed for, whether he wanted to admit it to himself or not. It meant recovery and normalcy and the potential to run again. It meant being able to walk side by side with Jeno or up the stairs at the mall. Yes, it was not a guarantee, but it was a chance, and one that Jaemin desperately wanted to take. 

On the other hand, more therapy, mental and physical, meant more money that they had to spend. His eomma worked much too hard as it was, even though she’d graduated to higher paying jobs, and it would be an unbelievable strain on their already weakened funds. Granted, Jaemin knew that the minute he asked his relatives for help, they would chip in, no questions asked, but both his eomma and himself had too much pride for that. The shame, alone, might cripple his eomma. Their insurance...only so much could be handled by the companies wielding the cards. In just a few months, their health insurance was going to run out of places to go, right alongside the injury claims. If they had found the person who had hit him, they could sue, but Jaemin had no idea who had hit him, nor what their license plate was. It had been months, and there were no traffic cams on their streets. The chance of finding the culprit? Not that high. 

So...Jaemin and his eomma had a lot to talk about tonight. 

“Thank you, Jungwoo,” Jaemin decided upon, smiling at his therapist, “but, I really need to discuss this with my eomma, okay?” 

Jungwoo grinned at him, a tinge of understanding creeping in. “I’d sure hope you did. It’s quite the news to take in all at once, and it’s a big decision to make.” 

“Yeah.” Jaemin scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. He imagined it wasn’t that hard for the therapist to figure out what he was thinking about. 

“Jaemin?” 

“Yeah?” 

“It’s going to be okay, kiddo.” Jungwoo stroked over his arm gently and pulled him into a small hug. 

Jaemin stiffened in surprise for a moment, before relaxing and returning the embrace. 

“Thanks, hyung.” 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, it's me, I would like to say sorry in advance and to beg you all to please not kill me yet at the end. That's it, that's my foreshadowing, I'm sorryyyyy! Also, 7Dream is a thing, who’s excited!?!?
> 
> See you next week O.o (Ikr, I have it mildly together for once? Shocking!) Anyway, stay safe everyone!! <333

Jaemin stared at the things on his end table for a long time after he got home. There was a box of tissues, some photographs, and a few presents from his friends decorating the old mahogany wood, but Jaemin’s eyes were glued to a particular photo, old, aged, and vaguely yellow-tinted, the keeper of a thousand memories. 

His father looked young and handsome behind the cracked glass of the picture frame. He was laughing brightly, joy palpable through the print, his arms wrapped around Jaemin’s mum’s waist. His grandmother stood next to them, holding a blue swaddled bundle of baby, smiling fondly down at little Jaemin. The entirety of the photograph was untouched by the tragedy and pain that would come later, the pain that would steal his father away from him. And, that’s probably why Jaemin loved it so much, _because_ of how untarnished it was. He wanted to remember his father fondly, and he did. 

Sighing quietly, Jaemin changed quickly out of his therapy clothes and into his visiting clothes, grabbing a few candles out of his drawer. He was sad, but also kind of excited to tell his dad what had been going on in life. He’d promised, on the night of the unfortunately sappy date, and now he was going to make good on that promise. Although, he should’ve gone sooner, to be perfectly honest. 

Just because he wasn’t present anymore didn’t mean his appa deserved to be left out of his life. A lot had happened since his last visit! 

Wheels skidding on the hardwood of the entryway, Jaemin swung through the kitchen to nick a lighter, before tugging on a decent-looking jacket and bustling out the door. 

_I’ll see you soon, dad._

  
  


Donghyuck called him as he was leaving the cemetery, heart a little lighter than when he had entered. Jaemin had told his dad about Dr. Junmyeon and his mum as well as his paralysis, along with meeting Jongin, becoming Jeno’s boyfriend, and possibly being able to recover. It was a lot of information, and Jaemin had spent hours by the grave, chatting with his Appa. 

Right before he had left, Jaemin had lit the candles he’d brought, scented vanilla, cherry, and mint, his father’s favorites, and arranged them how he always did, two on the left and one on the right. He’d taken care to stick them up neatly in the melted wax he had dripped onto the stone prior. Jaemin allowed himself one caress to the stone, eyes a little moist, before wheeling himself away, wheel tracks cutting lines through the grass. 

“Hi, Donghyuck,” Jaemin greeted, turning the phone on speaker and nestling it between his thigh and the chair so he could hear. “Something up?” 

“Does something have to be wrong for me to call you?” Donghyuck gasped dramatically, and Jaemin can picture him sitting on the other end of the phone, face mask on, hands clasped over his chest in mock astonishment 

“Most of the time, yes.” A couple waved at Jaemin as he passed, and he bowed slightly back, waving as well. Judging by the balloons, they had lost a loved one who’s birthday was that day. His heart panged in sympathy. 

“Maybe I just wanted to talk to your ugly ass,” Donghyuck continued, drawing out his words playfully as he crinkled some papers wherever he was. “Contrary to popular belief, you’re not all peasants that are furthering my means to an end. I do care about you. Most of the time.” Jaemin can hear his friend’s wicked smile over the phone, and it coaxes one out of Jaemin as well. 

“Really? I wasn’t too sure,” he teased back, absently hitting the crosswalk sign on the intersection leading back towards his house. A tiny shudder passed through him when a green pickup whizzed by, but other than that, his anxiety was pretty under control. 

“Well, I do care, which is why I called,” Donghyuck huffed, most probably rolling his eyes on the other side of the line. “I thought you had a checkup with that cute therapist of yours, and I was calling to ask how it went.” Although the other boy sounded sarcastic, Jaemin could hear the genuine concern in his voice, and it warmed his heart. 

“Actually, it went really well with Jungwoo today,” Jaemin informed him, wheeling across the road as the sign turned green. “We did some muscle-strengthening things, as usual, and determined that I gained muscle mass! Isn’t that exciting? Anyway, after that, he had me back up against these god-awful push-up bars to test something crazy, and it turned out to work!” 

“What is this crazy thing, do tell.” 

“I walked a few steps!” Jaemin crowed, realizing he hadn’t told Donghyuck about the incident on date night. “Which, please don’t get mad at me, sort of happened before too, on the day we went to get ice cream and then Jeno and I crashed my mum’s secret date.” 

Silence. 

“Na Jaemin, are you shitting me?” 

“No, I’m dead serious.” 

“For real?” 

“Yes, for real,” Jaemin assured him, wincing in embarrassment when Donghyuck started shrieking. The people around him shot him dirty looks as the sounds increases in frequency, volume, and pitch, and Jaemin rushed to turn off the speaker and hold the phone to his ear, cringing at the auditory assault. 

_Sorry,_ he mouthed at a few people, smiling sheepishly and scratching the back of his head as he waited for a few pigeons to get out of his way, the other hand covering Donghyuck’s still-shrieking voice coming out of the speakers. Unfortunately, someone behind him coughed pointedly, scaring the birds, and Jaemin was going to need his hands again, meaning Hyuck was back on speaker...

“I’m sorry, but _holy shit,_ does this mean you’re up for full recovery? Oh my god, are you walking _right now_? I hear cars outside, are you?!” Donghyuck’s voice was pitched much too high to be tolerable, and more glares came Jaemin’s way as he hurried to shush his friend. 

“God, Hyuck, dial it down, you’re on speaker!” He hissed, finally able to move again without the avian barrier in place. “But yes, Jungwoo thinks I could make a full recovery, emphasis on could, but no, I’m not walking right now. I just visited Appa.” 

“Oh.” Donghyuck got very quiet all of a sudden, and Jaemin decided not to question it. The pair stayed in that same silence for a little as Jaemin reached the final intersection, his house just in sight. His eomma’s car was back, which meant her boss had sent her home early again. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence, actually, because Amber was the sweetest boss in the entire world. 

Finally, Donghyuck took a deep breath, but instead of saying something about the recovery, he surprised Jaemin by simply stating, “I would’ve gone with you.” 

“Huh?” 

“I would’ve gone with you,” Donghyuck repeated, sounding soft, caring, and sweet all of a sudden. “I’m sorry I didn’t. I didn’t know.” 

“I don’t understand,” Jaemin murmured, as he hauled himself up the sidewalk to get to their front door. “Gone with me for what?” 

“You didn’t have to visit him alone, Nana.” 

“Oh.” Jaemin stopped in front of the door, halting his attempts to find their hidden key, slightly surprised. He hadn’t thought anyone would think about it like that. “It’s okay, Donghyuckie. I was fine.” 

“But still,” the other boy pressed, sounding dead serious. “You shouldn’t have gone alone the first time since the accident. What if it had been too much? I feel bad that you did. If I had known, I could’ve picked you up.” A beat of silence. “Any of us would’ve gone with you,” Donghyuck rushed to add, but Jaemin saw right through it. 

Donghyuck didn’t want to admit just how much he cared. For all of his talk about being the baddest bitch who didn’t need anyone, he truly did care about all of them, and the offer was his own way of showing it. Mentioning the rest of them was just a way to deflect from his concern. 

“That’s so sweet, Hyuckie,” Jaemin murmured, smiling affectionately as he unlocked the door with the spare key. “Thank you.” 

“Mmfph.” 

“Do you want to come with me next time?” 

“Will you need me to? You have Jeno instead…” The fragility in Donghyuck’s voice is raw, and Jaemin can’t help but panic. 

“No! Of course I need you too, Jeno doesn’t replace any of you!” He protested, hanging his coat up on the foyer and wheeling towards the kitchen where he could hear his eomma making food. He decided to ignore the part of his brain that questioned what Jeno was even doing, locking it back up in its box. He’d get his keys back tomorrow. Two days without them was fine, he could lock the door just fine with their spare, and Jeno wasn’t going to rob them. 

“Oh, good.” A muffled sniffle came across the line, and Jaemin smiled again. He’s so grateful for friends like his. “I’d come even if you didn’t need me to.” 

“I know.” 

“I love you, Nana, you know that right?” This time a wet chuckle accompanied his words, and Donghyuck was definitely crying, but Jaemin didn’t want to embarrass him more by commenting on it. 

“I love you too, Hyuckie.” 

“You’re my favorite bitch.” 

“So I’ve heard.” 

  
  
  


After changing into comfier clothes and washing up, Jaemin wheeled into the kitchen just in time to catch his eomma by surprise and help finish making the beef and kimchi. Jaemin updated her on Jungwoo’s diagnosis while they cooked, and they both agreed that it was a good idea to continue with therapy. His eomma promised to call the insurance company that night to work out the details. He also told her about his visit to his appa, and she smiled wistfully, looking years away for a little while before snapping out of it when it was time to add fish to the kimchi. 

“So, how was your day, baby? Aside from everything else you’ve told me?” His eomma asked as she set the table with two sets of chopsticks, bowls, and plates. Jaemin still wasn’t entirely sure why they kept such a long table because it was only his eomma and himself ninety percent of the time, and they were always the ones visiting the relatives for holidays, not the other way around. 

“Good.” A plume of aromatic steam puffed up into his face, and Jaemin took a deep breath, savoring the scent of his vegetable soup. He hadn’t been intending to cook tonight, but he knew how much his mum loved the veggie soup so it was a must-have. “How about you, eomma?” 

“Oh, my day was lovely,” Sooyi cooed, twirling around the kitchen dramatically and ruffling her son’s hair as she passed. “I taught my kids how to peel apples with the fancy machine, and I got a tip at the laundromat, of all places, isn’t that sweet? And then Junmyeon sent me a bouquet of roses, which Amber put them in the breakroom for safekeeping until I can bring them home tomorrow. They’re beautiful, Jaemin, in this gorgeous shade of orange that just looks like the prettiest Seol sunset ever to exist.” She sighed dreamily, before whisking the plate of bulgogi over to the table. 

When she came back, Jaemin mimed gagging, pointing one finger down the back of his throat and laughing when she swatted at him with a spatula. “You and Junmyeon, blegh! Don’t even start romanticizing about my _principal_ in front of me!” 

“It _was_ romantic!” Mrs. Na defended, laughing as well. “Just you wait, when Jeno goes and buys you the most beautiful bouquet you’ve ever seen, don’t you come gushing to me!” She waggled the spatula in his face threateningly, still chuckling, before realizing that Jaemin’s expression had fallen. 

“What’s wrong, Jaejae?” She asked, coming over to stand behind him and rub the nape of his neck. “Did I say something wrong? I was just teasing you know, you can always come talk to eomma about your boyfriend or girlfriend. I won’t judge.” 

“No, it’s okay, eomma. It’s not that,” Jaemin murmured, taking the soup off the stove carefully, trying not to burn himself as he brought it down to the right height for transport. “I was just thinking about Jeno.” 

“Is that not a good thing? Did you two fight the other night?” Sooyi followed him into the dining room, plopping into her chair inelegantly and propping her head up in her hands to stare at her son. “You can tell me if you did. I promise I won’t kill him until tomorrow at least.” 

Jaemin huffed a laugh, picking up his chopsticks to serve his eomma first, then himself. “I don’t really know what we did, actually, eomma, but thank you for the sentiment.” 

“That doesn’t sound good,” Sooyi mused, taking a sip of her soup. “Should I be worried?” 

“It’s funny that you say that because I was going to ask you the same question.” Jaemin pushed his mound of rice around nervously. 

“Hm?” 

“Jeno left early the other night,” Jaemin admitted, looking up to study his mother’s expression. “He left in the middle of the night with no explanation after getting a mysterious phone call, and he stole my keys as well. When I tried to ask him what happened, he just brushed me off like it was nothing. And now, it’s been a whole day, almost two, and he still hasn’t texted me or anything.” 

“Hm.” A wrinkle had appeared in between his eomma’s brows, and a contemplative look had taken over her face. “I had wondered why he wasn’t here in the morning when I left yesterday. Did you try calling him and asking? Maybe it was important, and it kept him busy? You should always ask before jumping to conclusions, communication is very important.” 

“No, I didn’t,” Jaemin mumbled, feeling slightly embarrassed to be complaining but not having actually tried anything. “I guess I should, huh?” 

“Yes, I think you should. It can’t hurt, anyway, right, baby? At worst, he doesn’t answer you, and then you can just ask him tomorrow.” She dropped a few carrots in Jaemin’s soup, stealing his mushrooms in return. 

“Okay, I will. Thank you, mum.” Jaemin smiled at her before happily eating his extra carrots and rice. 

“Of course, baby.” 

“Hey, Jen.” Jaemin held the phone to his mouth, on speaker for the second time that day, sitting on his bed with an unusual expression on his face. It had taken him a while to decide whether he actually wanted to call Jeno, despite telling his eomma that he would. And once he decided, for some reason, it had taken him nearly as long to actually press the button. The feeling had been foreign, but Jaemin couldn’t help but think it felt an awful lot like dread, an emotion he had never associated with his best friend.

“Jaem,” Jeno replied, voice sounding slightly distorted as the speaker crackled loudly. “Did you need something?” 

“Um,” Jaemin blurted, disbelief coating the word as he picked up on Jeno’s tone. _Is he not happy to hear from me? Did I do something wrong?_ A wicked voice in the back of his brain whispered that this was a mistake. “I just wanted to call you before bed?”

“Oh, that’s all?” Jeno sounded highly dismissive, even to Jaemin’s ears, and it really stung. What was going on?

“Well, I, um, went to Jungwoo today,” Jaemin offered, desperate to keep a conversation going with his boyfriend. Was Jeno not going to say anything else, not defend himself, not going to ask any questions? Was he just going to let Jaemin carry the brunt of the conversation? “I thought you’d want to know what happened?” 

“That’s interesting.” Not a single question about if he was okay or what therapy had entailed today. 

Wow. 

Even Donghyuck had called to ask. Donghyuck, who hated using cellphones. 

Was Jaemin overthinking this? 

He was starting to think that maybe he wasn’t. 

“He thinks my spinal cord is healing unusually well for someone with my condition.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Jungwoo believes that I can try elevated therapy,” Jaemin added, hot shame crawling up his cheeks as Jeno’s replies continued to be fillers. It was so unlike Jeno to be so blatantly uninterested, especially when it came to Jaemin’s health. 

Elevated therapy was the name for Jungwoo’s new diagnosis plan. It was for patients expected to improve their receptive capacity in the damaged nerves, whether it be through feeling or motion, as the doctor had explained. It was a big deal, and it hinted at major things for Jaemin. It gave him _hope._ After the trauma they’d both suffered regarding the accident, couldn’t Jeno just pretend to care a little? 

“Mm.” More movement registered on the phone’s mic, translating into loud, dissonant noises, assaulting Jaemin’s eardrums. He could hear someone talking to Jeno in the background, and it made tears prickle in his eyes. 

Why pick up the phone at all if you had company? That was rather rude to both parties involved, not to mention if you only picked up to...what, brush your boyfriend off? 

Jaemin needed to know what was going on, for the sake of his sanity. 

“Jeno?” 

“Yeah?

“What happened yesterday night?” Jaemin’s voice wavered far too much to come off as annoyed or even impassive, but he needed to get it off his chest. Communication was important to any relationship, early or seasoned, just like his eomma had counseled. Jeno and he needed to figure this out before it festered into something uncontrollable. 

“Hm?” 

“When you left so abruptly. What happened?” Jaemin pressed on, stomach rolling wildly. It felt like an entire zoo was running rampant in his abdomen, anticipation lying heavy in his gut. Something was really wrong. 

“Oh, that. My mum just needed help with something.” The person on the other side of the line came across clearer this time around, and Jaemin could hear the slightly-higher pitches that tended to indicate a female voice. 

His heart plummeted. 

“At three in the morning? What could she possibly be doing, Jeno?” Jaemin’s voice cracked with a building dry sob, sounding incredulous and wounded. Jeno was with a girl? “Why was it so important that you had to leave, steal my keys, which I still need back, by the way, and run there? Do you not get why I’m upset and confused?” 

“She needed help making something in the kitchen, okay?” Jeno’s irritation was palpable through the call as his frustrated sigh reached Jaemin’s ears. “Look, I’m sorry I ran out on you, Jaem, but it was really important. I couldn’t have stayed.“ 

“But, Jen—“ Jaemin tried, desperately trying to understand, scrubbing at his face with a sweater sleeve in frustration. This, _this_ was why he didn’t want to call. He didn’t want to deal with the notion that this exact dismissal was going to happen, and sure enough, it did. 

“Listen, I gotta go,” Jeno interrupted. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, okay?” 

He hung up before Jaemin could even respond. 

Jaemin stared at Jeno’s departing contact picture on his phone screen, eyebrows furrowed and something strange and heavy coiling in his belly. Maybe he was just being dramatic, but there was something very, very off about Jeno’s behavior. 

Nobody cooks at three in the morning, least of all Mrs. Lee, Jaemin realized, thinking over the weak explanation Jeno had offered him, tears prickling in his eyes once again. _Jeno just lied to me. But why?_

It was definitely dread seeping into every fiber of his being. 

Never had he ever felt so dismissed and brushed aside in all their years of friendship, not even during the Grand Misunderstanding that led to their relationship forming. The feeling was foreign, and it made Jaemin feel an odd sense of humiliation, embarrassed to his very core for reasons he couldn’t seem to articulate. 

He felt very gross all of a sudden, as a single tear escaped his pooling eyes, and he clutched his phone tighter, willing the feeling to fade or disappear. 

It didn’t. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading~ Comments and kudos are always appreciated, let me know what you thought! <3


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait until Friday to post this just to get a *little* bit more ahead on the next chapter, but I couldn't stand leaving it on that cliffhanger with Jaemin feeling so awful, so here we go, a few days early! <3

He didn’t see Jeno at school the next day, like his boyfriend had promised. He had even waited for an hour after his student council meeting had ended, but Jaemin still hadn’t seen Jeno. 

Apparently, no one had. 

That was insanely worrying. Could he have come down with some kind of sickness in just a few days? Maybe Jaemin should go over and visit...just to make sure…

_No! I’m going to give him space! I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason for it all._

Jaemin still sent Jeno a text that night though, asking if he was okay and saying he missed him. 

It came back read just seconds later, and a typing bubble did appear, but no response followed, no matter how long Jaemin waited. 

There was no Jeno on Tuesday either, but Yerim assured Jaemin that she had seen him earlier and that he didn’t need to worry. She said he had looked fine and had been helping a girl to the nurse’s office after she fell in the hall. She even gave him a hug, ruffling his hair and telling him not to fret so much or he’d get premature wrinkles and ruin his pretty face. 

Jaemin had smiled and laughed off the compliment with her, but slippery and slimy dread started to wind itself around his heart once again. 

On Wednesday, Jaemin sent Jeno another text, asking what was wrong and if he had done something. He begged him to call him or text him at some point that day and told him that he’d wait after student council for him if he wanted to hang out later. He also asked very politely for his keys back, but Donghyuck informed him that it came off more passive aggressive. 

Jaemin found that he didn’t care. Something was wrong, he could feel it in his bones.

A read stamp appeared at 11:37 that night. 

The next day, Jaemin opened his locker and found his keys hanging on the hook at the top, still swinging slightly. Frowning, Jaemin turned to look down the hall for Jeno since his boyfriend couldn’t be that far away, but he couldn’t pinpoint his dark head in the crowd. A pair of broad shoulders appeared briefly in the gap between a group of giggling girls, but Jaemin couldn’t distinguish the person as Jeno before a girl with purple hair was cutting through his line of vision, wrapping herself around the boy. 

_Must not be Jeno then._

Turning back to his locker confirmed that nothing was particularly unusual inside. His small pictures of their friend group and his eomma were still magnetized to the back wall, their colorful flower frames standing out against the boring tan walls of the compartment. All of his textbooks were still arranged the same way, and no pencils or pens were missing from their holsters in the neon green organizer Renjun had gifted him years ago. 

However, upon closer inspection, his rainbow sticky notes were sitting out in the corner of the locker, placed where his extra snack typically sat, also missing. They were relatively inconspicuously placed but very noticeable to Jaemin, who made sure to know where everything was (god forbid he turn into Jisung where strange fungi grew on abandoned objects in the hellhole that was his locker). Another clue-in to the moved object was the fact that an orange sticky note was on top. Jaemin distinctly remembered there being a red one in that same position previously. 

Another speedy search found the location of the used sticky note. There was a tiny post-it note stuck to his flat Ryan keychain, and Jaemin plucked it off quizzically. What was Jeno up to?

_Here’s your keys back, I’m sorry I stole them. Love you, Jaem, have a good day, I’ll see you at lunch later._

_~Jen_

It was sad how quickly his heart started to race as his fingertips traced over the words in his boyfriend’s neatly-scrawled print. Jaemin unhooked them and clutched his keys to his chest, sighing faintly. 

_Thank god_. 

  
  


He was back to being happy and bouncy throughout the first half of the day, but when he got to lunch, only Donghyuck and Renjun were seated at their table. Heart sinking, Jaemin went over and parked at the end, not even bothering to smile when Renjun pushed the plate of egg rolls toward him. 

“Hey, you okay, Nana?” Donghyuck asked, words muffled and distorted by the food in his mouth. Renjun winced next to him and punched their friend, shooting Jaemin an apologetic look. 

“Don’t be insensitive, Donghyuck!” Renjun hissed, before turning to face Jaemin again. “We just noticed you haven’t been yourself lately.” 

“Oh.” Jaemin pushed one of Renjun’s mum’s legendary egg rolls around with a finger, too nauseated to pick it up and eat it. “No, I’m okay.” He grimaced in a frightening attempt at a smile. He probably looked more like he’d eaten a bad egg. 

“I don’t believe you. You look like hell.” Donghyuck was smiling and clearly trying to tease him into admitting the problem, but all it did was make Jaemin’s blood boil. 

“I am fine, thank you,” he snapped, taking a vicious bite out of an egg roll. It was the right mix of flavorfully seasoned vegetables and crunchy shell, but it just made him even more nauseated. 

“If you say so.” Both of his best friends looked entirely unconvinced, and Jaemin himself wouldn’t have believed it either if he’d been the one judging it, but both were too nice to keep prying. 

That was, until Donghyuck realized that one of their closest friends was notably absent. 

“Wait, where’s Jeno?” 

Jaemin nearly dropped the piece of egg roll he had been about to eat, heart pounding. 

“I don’t know.”

_Please don’t ask me about it, just drop it, Hyuck. I’m begging you, don’t go throwing salt in my wounds right now._

“That’s odd, actually,” Renjun said, looking up from one of his many textbooks. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him all week.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Donghyuck looked curious. “Did you two fight or something?” 

Jaemin had to work to keep his face straight. “That’s not really any of your business, Donghyuck.” 

“It is if it concerns my two best friends,” he retorted, rolling his eyes in obvious annoyance. “What happens if you two get in a fight again, huh? Are Renjun and I just supposed to pick sides again, cut our group in half?”

Jaemin glared back at him, jaw working furiously. “No one asked either of you two to pick sides. We would have figured it out on our own.” 

“Ha, please! Both of you had your heads too far up your asses to do anything, don’t tell me you would’ve figured it out! Tell me, Na Jaemin, is there trouble in paradise?” 

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” 

“Is that so?” Donghyuck goaded, pushing Jaemin’s buttons even more. The stress he was under was making him crumble, his composure starting to crack, fractures running all the way up the stone. 

“Guys, please don’t fight,” Renjun begged, putting his hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder to try to placate him, but the younger just shrugged him off irritatedly. He tried to do the same with Jaemin, but he yanked his arm away as well. 

“Stay out of it, Renjun!” They both snapped, too busy glaring at each other to look at the eldest. 

Renjun sucked in a deep breath, but didn’t say anything else, pursing his lips and returning to his work. 

“You know, Jaemin?” 

“What.” 

“I think you’re just too much of a coward to admit that everything isn’t sunshine and rainbows in Nomin land.” The smug smile on his face was the last straw. 

“Shut the fuck up, Donghyuck.” Jaemin shoved away from the table and gathered his things, just tossing them around violently. “Just shut up. Don’t even talk to me.” 

“You’re a coward, Jaemin. All you’re doing is running away.” 

“Shut. Up!” Jaemin yelled, banging his fist on the table. The trays and food jumped, metal clanking against the hardtop raising enough noise that people around them were starting to stare. He took one last look at the growing shock spreading across Donghyuck’s face before whipping away and leaving the cafeteria. 

The fire left his veins quickly, however, once Jaemin was out in the open air, parked under a tree. Remorse set in not so long after, but Jaemin was too proud to go and apologize first. Donghyuck shouldn’t have goaded him; he would have to repent first. 

After he deemed himself level-headed enough to send a text, he dug his phone out of his backpack to text Jeno. 

_To: ♥️Acorn♥️_

_Hey, you said you were coming to lunch today but didn’t show. Is everything ok?_

_[11:45]_

He waited for a while, but nothing happened, not even a read receipt. He had thought everything was going back to normal, but maybe it wasn’t. Jeno was still acting suspicious, and he was still not answering his texts. 

_Is this how a break-up starts?_ The nagging voice in his head wouldn’t go away.

That meant Jaemin fought with Donghyuck over a real something, not just the nothing he was trying to convince himself of. 

The warning bell chimed as Jaemin gave in, typing up a quick text to Donghyuck. 

_To: ☆prettier than you☆_

_Can we talk after school?_

_[11:55]_

Just as he hit send, another message popped up on his screen, quite long and blocky. 

_From: ☆prettier than you☆_

_Hi Nana. Er...if I’m still allowed to call you Nana. I wouldn’t blame you if I wasn’t. I was a terrible friend, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have poked at you when you were obviously upset. Can I make it up to you later? I can pick you up from Park’s_

_[11:55]_

Jaemin couldn’t help the tiny little grin that spread across his face. Of course they’d text each other at the same time, of course they’d both want to make amends. They were best friends after all, and a petty fight over a boy wasn’t going to change that. They were never able to stay mad at each other for long. 

_To: ☆prettier than you☆_

_Of course. I’m sorry too_

_[11:56]_

_From: ☆prettier than you☆_

_Thank you, thank you, thank you, I’m really sorry. I’ll pick you up later, we can talk then_

_[11:56]_

_To: ☆prettier than you☆_

_See you then, Hyuckie_

_[11:57]_

_From: ☆prettier than you☆_

_☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆_

Jaemin shoved his phone back in his backpack, pulled on his gloves, and made his way back to the school building, the tiniest of smiles gracing his face. 

For now, Jeno was totally forgotten. 

  
  


Jaemin was just finishing up his notes on the DMZ when a piece of paper slid across the table and into his notebook. It was folded at least thrice, and math problems and doodles covered the entirety of the outside. He hadn’t seen who’d passed it because it was during seat change, Jaemin, of course, not budging from his easy-access seat. 

Curiosity peaked, Jaemin waited until Mr. Park was looking away before tugging it under the table to read it, propping his head on a hand to disguise the downward tilt. 

It had just four words written on it in picture-perfect print, scarlet ink standing out against the darkness of the graphite. 

_Just you wait, boo_. 

Jaemin stared at it in shock. 

_What the hell?_

He scanned the room for anyone who looked suspicious or was paying unusual attention to him, but no one would meet his eyes, if they even saw him looking. Jaemin managed to discreetly hit Yukhei with a tiny ball of paper from across the classroom, and the other teenager glanced over at him, mouthing a ‘what?’. 

Jaemin brandished the paper at him, pointing at the words spiritedly. _Right here, Yukhei. Do you know who?_ The older boy just squinted harder, leaning out of his seat to see. Unfortunately, Yukhei was a big guy, and his seat was very old, squeaking conspicuously as he struggled. 

Mr. Park turned around with a no-nonsense look, and Jaemin dropped the paper like it was on fire, sliding his notebook over it smoothly, heart racing a million miles an hour. While Mr. Park was one of their nicest teachers, he had a _read it out loud_ policy for notes in class, and Jaemin had borne witness to a girl swallowing a note so that it couldn’t be read to the class. 

Jaemin did not want to be that girl. 

He watched Mr. Park’s eyes wander the room with eagle-eyed precision, lingering far too long on Jaemin’s notebook. But, before he could say anything, something rolled off a desk, clattering loudly in the anxiety-charged classroom. Their teacher’s eyes snapped over to Yukhei with a strange look as the senior leaned uncomfortably over the table to grasp at a pen he had clearly shoved off the edge to cover for Jaemin. It was obviously difficult to do, and Yukhei looked highly determined, despite there being a much less awkward alternative. A few chuckles were stifled under the glare from Mr. Park, and Yukhei just reached further, nearly folded in half over the top of the table. 

“Yukhei, just reach under the table for your pen, please don’t disturb class.” Mr. Park let out the longest long-suffering sigh Jaemin had heard in his entire life as he turned back to the blackboard. 

Yukhei just cheerfully hauled himself back onto the right side of the table and retrieved his pen, winking at Jaemin as he settled back into his chair. Jaemin shot him a grateful look back but hurried snapped back to face forward when Mr. Park turned around again with a deepening frown. 

A few seconds after the coast had cleared, a ball of paper hit Jaemin upside the head, and unraveling it revealed a phone number with the word Xuxi written above it. Jaemin stuck it into his contacts quickly, hiding his phone under a folder as he typed under the desk. 

_To: Xuxi_

_*image png attached*_

_[2:46]_

_Any idea who would’ve sent this?_

_[2:46]_

He watched Yukhei rummage around in his backpack for his phone, not looking discreet at all. The basketball player did pull it off though, pulling out a pencil pouch along with his phone, both looking miniscule in his massive hands. He covered for a little by taking colored pens to his notes and highlighting before the attention was off him, and Jaemin’s phone pinged. 

_+From: Xuxi_

_Woah bro, I have no idea_

_[2:47]_

_That’s cold hearted_

_[2:47]_

_Have u pissed off a chick recently? Made a pass at someone’s gf by accident? Insulted some jock’s pride?_

_[2:48]_

_To: Xuxi_

_Um no. I'm dating Jeno. There’s no use for any of that, and I’d never do that to anyone on purpose anyway. Certainly nothing bad enough to warrant a...threat?_

_[2:48]_

_+From: Xuxi_

_I dunno man, sorry >_< But if u need backup for something let me know. I’ll help. _

_[2:49]_

_To: Xuxi_

_It’s okay, thanks anyway_

_[2:49]_

Jaemin sighed and sunk back against his wheelchair, twisting the piece of paper in between his index and middle finger. The words were burned into the back of his brain, swirling around in the mess of a room dedicated to all things Jeno. 

_Just you wait, boo._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...any guesses what's going on? Thoughts? O.O Also, if the texting is hard to read, lmk? The formatting is kinda strange, I know. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, as always, comments and kudos are appreciated! I'll see you some time next week~ Stay safe <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I hope everyone is well! Has everyone seen Reload? I’m in love with the album, but Love Again and Quiet Down are definitely at the top lol. Every track video is so unique and amazing, and [Ridin'](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vofjeJvRT9c) is excellent! Don't forget to show the boys some love! :) 
> 
> Now for the more messy stuff, my updates will probably become very sporadic over the next few weeks because I’m not coping very well with the current situation and inspiration has run kind of low. I can't promise any specific day or timeframe (it might be fast or slow), and I’m going to aim for earlier dates, but I don’t want to lack in quality either :( That being said, this chapter is a *little* longer than usual in order to keep the flow of the story until I can return <3

Donghyuck picked him up from class super quickly, looking disheveled and out of breath as he charged down the hall, jacket flapping wildly behind him from where it was tied around his shoulders as a cape. He skirted to a halt in front of Jaemin, converse sneakers protesting the abrupt change in inertia, re-fluffing his caramel hair and adjusting his shirt before beaming brightly at the younger. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he chirped, going to embrace Jaemin tightly. He had to bend over a decent amount, and all he really managed to hug was Jaemin’s head, the younger’s knees too much in the way, but the scent of Hyuck’s watermelon shampoo filtered down anyway, calming him down immensely. 

“Um, I don’t think this is late,” Jaemin mumbled into the cotton of his best friend’s shirt, but it went unheeded and unanswered, Donghyuck just squishing him tighter. 

“I’m so sorry I upset you earlier,” Donghyuck wailed, mood doing a total one-eighty as Jaemin started to struggle to breathe. “I was being an ass, and I totally understand if you’ll never forgive me because I totally deserve it.” 

“Cafh bweft, huhg,” Jaemin spat, totally unintelligible, but, thankfully, Hyuck got the message, relaxing his grip on Jaemin and stepping back. 

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Donghyuck cried, looking distressed. “First, I baited him, now I’m suffocating him,” he bemoaned to himself, smacking his palm to his forehead dramatically. 

“It’s okay, Hyuck.” Jaemin smiled at him, taking his hand and squeezing it. “I forgive you. I wasn’t in a good mood anyway, and you were kind of right, to be honest.” 

“You were? I was?” Donghyuck looked shocked but happy, squeezing Jaemin’s hand back, regret starting to fade from his eyes. 

“Yeah.” Jaemin glanced at the fairly crowded hallway quickly, noting a few girls watching them curiously, before dropping his voice and saying, “hey, can we go somewhere else first?” 

“Yeah, absolutely,” Donghyuck agreed, smiling. “How about the arcade? I’ll pay, and I’ve got extra tokens in my backpack.” 

“Yeah, sure!” Jaemin hadn’t been to the arcade in ages! And if someone else was paying, even better. 

“Okay, sounds good. Do you want me to push you or?” 

“Uh, no, I can get myself.” Jaemin went to undo the brakes on his chair when the feeling started to creep up his torso, ticklish and cold. “Aw shit,” he muttered before glaring down at his legs. “Did you have to pick now?” 

“What’s wrong?” Donghyuck dropped down in front of him to catch his eye, as Jaemin didn’t make any move to acknowledge him. “Hey, Jaem, what’s happening?” 

“Can I have your jacket?” 

“What? Why do you—oh.” Donghyuck’s eyes were drawn to Jaemin’s legs as well as the spasms started, jerking them in all kinds of directions. It was as unpleasant as always, and it certainly was disorienting to watch, but there was nothing technically hurting him. If anything, it was just mildly ticklish to Jaemin’s hips. 

“Jacket, please, Hyuck,” Jaemin begged, cheeks heating as a few shrieks were heard across the hall, a couple girls gaping at his legs with hands held up to their mouths. A few of them were starting to pull out their phones to film him. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, here.” Donghyuck dropped it on his lap, tucking it down on the sides so the majority of Jaemin’s legs were covered, only his twitching feet visible. A girl with shimmering purple locks started reporting into her phone, sounding like she was recording the start of a blog, and both boys shot her a glare, Donghyuck stepping in front of him to shield Jaemin from the cameras. 

“What is wrong with you guys?” Donghyuck yelled, glaring at them with his hands on his hips. “Would you like someone to film you during a moment of weakness? No? So don’t do it to him! Show him some basic respect, good god!” 

Jaemin just hunkered down behind Donghyuck, covering his face with his hands somewhat futilely. If the girls wanted to post the videos of his traitorous legs on the school’s social media, people would have no trouble identifying him. He was the only junior in a wheelchair, after all. 

Embarrassment was starting to flood his being as people kept gawking, drawing more attention to the glaring disability that he had. Would anyone have done this if he had still been the top track star, popular and untouchable? Or was it because he had fallen that they were doing it? Or were they just staring out of a sense of morbid curiosity? 

Well, whatever the case was, he wasn’t going to let them win, he decided, straightening up all of a sudden. He couldn’t let them win! Jaemin was mentally stronger than ever now, and he was going to leave this place with his head held high, dammit. 

Now, he just had to wait for his legs to catch up and get the memo. 

Thankfully, they gave in relatively quickly, apparently not eager for a marathon and ceased their convulsions, resting innocently in crooked, contorted positions. He rearranged them nimbly, already used to it, before tugging on his gloves. He briefly debated securing them into the straps his mum had installed on the bars leading down to the footrests but ultimately decided against it, opting to leave quickly instead. 

“Let’s go, Hyuck,” was all he said before he wheeled himself past the very same girls who had been videoing him. When the blogger turned her phone to follow him, Jaemin just winked confidently at her as she narrated, Donghyuck close on his heels. 

“That was really bold of you,” Donghyuck commented offhandedly, handing Jaemin another ball for the skeeter ball machine. 

“Why? It’s about time I did something.” Jaemin stared down the hundred-point slot at the top, willing his ball to go into the hole. He wound his hand back right as Donghyuck continued talking. 

“I guess that’s true. What I meant to say was that I’m proud of you. You’re the baddest bitch, and you had the guts to go and prove it to them.” Donghyuck cheered for Jaemin when the ball plunked nearly into its intended slot as neon green, pixelated fireworks flashed across the screen that displayed the scoreboard. 

“Thank you.” Jaemin took aim again before tossing the ball up the ramp and into the game board, cursing when it sunk into the fifty-pointer instead. “I decided I was tired of being ashamed of myself. I might not entirely like the new me, but it’s still me.” 

“Well said,” Donghyuck agreed, patting his shoulder and handing him the final ball. “Six thousand won says you don’t beat my high score.” 

“What do I need to beat it?” Jaemin hadn’t been paying enough attention to the scoreboard, but money was money, regardless of how little. 

“Seventy points, so you’ll need to nail a hundred, Na.” 

“You’re on.” Jaemin wiggled his chair over to the right just a few centimeters, tracking his projected path of the ball to the raised one-hundred hole that he’d need to beat Donghyuck. A smooth flick of his wrist would send it to the left just enough to get it in the hole, if he accounted for the natural curve. 

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Jaemin let the ball fly, eyes snapping open nervously when he heard the clank of the ball guard, fearing the worst. 

But his fears were unfounded because the plastic ball just bounced off the grate and into the hundred slot, just as Jaemin had intended. 

“Ha!” Jaemin crowed, turning to face Donghyuck as the tickets came out of the dispenser. “You owe me six thousand won!” 

“Not so fast,” Donghyuck chortled, looking over Jaemin’s head at the scoreboard. “Looks like I won after all.” He pointed at the board, and lo and behold, Jaemin’s last one hundred points weren’t registered by the machine, leaving Donghyuck in place at the top. 

“Are you serious?” He screeched, sending the screen a murderous look. “I won!” 

“Not according to the game, Nana dearest,” Donghyuck exclaimed gleefully, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and giving him a noogie. “Looks like _you_ owe _me_ six thousand won.” 

“I hate my life,” Jaemin groaned, letting his head bang forward onto the skeeter ball console. 

As it was, Donghyuck didn’t make Jaemin pay him the bet wager, handing over a five-thousand note and a thousand note wordlessly when Jaemin reached for his wallet to pay for more arcade tokens. 

After a few more games the boys counted up their acquired ticket pool and decided to exchange them for credit for a future visit along with two drink coupons that they happily made use of. 

They were seated at the “bar” sipping on their free sodas with far too much sugar to be healthy, although Jaemin technically had no room to judge because he typically inhaled an insane amount of caffeine every day, when Donghyuck laced his fingers together around the base of his cup and leveled Jaemin with a serious look. He even took the built-in twisty straw out from between his lips. 

And that was the moment Jaemin knew he was screwed. 

“So,” Donghyuck trailed, looking him in the eyes. “You wanted to talk?” 

_Oh right. Talk._ So much for hoping Donghyuck forgot the entire reason they’d come here. 

“I...did,” Jaemin grumbled, taking another sip of his sprite and relishing in the bubbles for just another second. Anything to stall. 

“So? What was it about? I’m still really sorry about lunch if that was what it was for, and I promise I won’t overstep again.” 

“Oh, no, that was sort of it, but I was going to explain why I was on edge. Besides, it was both our faults, Hyuckie, seriously, you don’t have to keep apologizing.” Donghyuck just smiled at him, shy, and waited for him to continue. 

Jaemin decided to take it one step at a time. “Okay, so before I get too far into it,” he muttered, rummaging around in his pocket for the note from earlier, “I got this today in Park’s class, and I have absolutely no idea who it’s from.” He handed it to Donghyuck. 

“That’s strange,” he murmured, turning it around to study all the drawings and arithmetic covering the blank side. “And there’s nothing to give you any indication of who wrote it?” 

“Nope.” 

“You have no idea why either?” 

Jaemin took a deep breath, before admitting, “Actually, I have a sneaking suspicion that it’s related to Jeno. Yukhei seemed to agree with me when I showed it to him in class.” 

“What? What’s wrong with Jeno? Is that what we were supposed to talk about? And Wong Yukhei? As in Renjun’s-rival, Wong Yukhei? Speaking of which, did you send it to Injunnie? He might be able to do some analysis on it or something.” Donghyuck spat out all the questions at lightning speed, and it took Jaemin a second to catch up, shaking his head out. 

“Well yes, sort of. I was going to text it to him, but you live near him, if you could drop it off for me? And yes, I think it’s about Jeno. He’s been acting flaky recently—”

“Which is why he wasn’t at lunch,” Donghyuck cut in, studying the paper harder before tucking it into his backpack to deliver to Renjun. 

“Yes, and I thought you might have an idea why?” Jaemin peeked at his best friend over the rim of his cup, trying to assess what was going on inside his head. 

“Yeah, sure, absolutely. Lay it on me, let’s see what we can do.” Donghyuck shot him a reassuring smile, taking a swig of his drink and settling back. Maybe the exaggerated confidence was what calmed the racing in Jaemin’s heart, but whatever it was worked because his swirling emotions eased up, allowing him to think and organize his thought process. 

“Okay, so it all started on the day my eomma had a date with Principal Junmyeon…” 

By the time he finished, older college-age kids were starting to trickle in, and the arcade workers were starting to give them increasingly more pointed looks as it neared the time when people under 21 had to get out, and the arcade machines moved to the back as the liquor and shot glasses came out.

Both boys collected their trash quietly, Jaemin waiting with bated breath for Donghyuck’s response, and Donghyuck taking time to process all the information he’d just been handed. 

Stepping out onto the streets, Jaemin was momentarily blinded by the neon lighting on all the signs, the sun nearly entirely set. His backpack was nestled comfortably on top of his thighs, but Jaemin had to shift it out of the way to get Donghyuck’s jacket out and give it back. 

Donghyuck took it back in silence, still looking contemplative. 

They were nearing the underground when Donghyuck spoke up. 

“You know, that sounds really bad, Jaem.” 

Jaemin made a face. “I know.” 

“Do you think he’s involved in something shady?” 

Jemin paused to think about it, noting the worried inflections in Donghyuck’s tone. “I don’t think so,” he said, dragging out the last syllable, “but I don’t really know. He did give my keys back, but he did it through my locker and hasn’t seen me since. You would think he would want to see me, his boyfriend, at least once, right?” 

“Yeah.” Donghyuck swiped his card on the way into the underground, intercepting Jaemin’s card before he could swipe it and using his own again. “My treat,” he explained, before gesturing for Jaemin to keep talking. 

“I just, should I be worried, Hyuck?” He asked as they made their way to the right platform, hustling because the next train was due in just five minutes. 

“I don’t want to tell you not to be, but I don’t want you to be paranoid either,” his friend hummed, bowing slightly at a musician they passed in the tubes. “I do agree though, that Jeno is acting weird. It’s unlike him to brush you off, especially since you’re both usually joined at the hip.” 

“Should I call him again?” Their conversation was interrupted by the roar of the incoming train, but both boys were too distracted by having to board anyway. Much to Jaemin’s displeasure, he couldn’t quite get his wheels up onto the train from the platform, the gap was simply too big. With an apologetic smile thrown at the agitated wanna-be passengers, Donghyuck had to shove Jaemin up himself, wheels grinding painfully against the metal, but no harm was done. Once properly situated, Donghyuck picked back up where they were. 

“I mean, you can try. You said your number doesn’t show up as blocked or anything, right? He’s just not answering?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.” Donghyuck shoved a hand through his light curls, turning to glance over at Jaemin. “I would call him again. If he doesn’t answer, leave a voicemail. Tell him how upset you are, maybe try to guilt trip him. The dude has got to answer at some point. I’ll tell Renjun, too, and we’ll both do something similar. Who knows, maybe he’ll answer one of us instead.” 

Jaemin nodded, but his brain was focused on the part about Jeno picking up for one of them instead. 

“Donghyuck?” Jaemin asked, shifting closer to the other boy in the handicapped belts. 

“Hm?”

“I’m scared.” 

“I know, baby.” Donghyuck dropped his head on top of Jaemin’s, reaching over to hold his hand. “I know.” 

A text from a Renjun came through as he was brushing his teeth by the sink, purple handle poking out of his mouth as he reached for his phone resting a few centimeters away. 

_From: Moomin otaku_

_Hi nana. So, I got this paper and the whole scoop from Hyuck, and I just wanted to say I’m really sorry that Jeno’s doing this to you. He’s being an ass, and I’m going to get onto him for it. You should’ve said something sooner! We could’ve helped you out or at least just given you a place to vent!_

_Anyway, I just wanted to send this to you now, since you’re probably going out of your mind over this. I did some analysis and stuff (call me a crime nerd all you want), but I don’t have a database for fingerprints anyway, so I didn’t bother to try to lift them. I did notice, however, and you can check the diagram, that there’s a few things written in pinyin on some of the drawings. A few characters from Pleasant Goat and Big Big Wolf (it’s a popular children’s show on the Mainland) are scribbled on there in between the arithmetic, and lines from the cartoon are wound around the inside of their outlines. So, your friend was probably Chinese or Taiwanese._

_Finally, and this is mostly guesswork and observational assumptions, so don’t take it too seriously, there’s a few nuances to the words that could mean it’s a female writing. Now, there’s only four, so don’t get too set on the idea, but a few of the letters, particularly the J, u, y and w, are more curved with bowed-out strokes, which is a typical nuance of feminine writing. Graphology is a pseudo-science though, so don’t put too much weight into it, it’s just a thought. There’s also ink blots in the pen after each stroke you’d take to write, so maybe the handwriting was done deliberately slow as the pen bled to look feminine. It’s hard to tell. But I highlighted and annotated things on the picture for you to see._

_Just in general, I wanted to offer my free advice that you can take any way you wish. Don’t let this Jeno business consume you, okay? You already gave him some time, and you’ve done everything you can to try to get him to speak with you. Hyuck said you were going to call him tonight, and that’s fine, we’ll both help out too, but just know that it won’t last forever. Whatever is going on, Jeno is a good man, and he won’t just leave you without an explanation. Try to be patient, Jaeminnie, and everything will find a way to work out <3 _

_This is a really long text, I’m sorry. I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise, and I can give you a big hug. Never forget that Hyuck and I love you too. Xoxo Injunnie_

_*image attached*_

_[10:47]_

_To: Moomin otaku_

_Thank you so much, you’re the best, Renjun!! Sleep tight, I love you too~_

_[10:48]_

Jaemin smiled down at his phone as he finished up, rolling over to his bed and lifting himself onto it. Clicking on the diagram confirmed that Renjun had indeed gone all out, annotations and arrows decorating the entirety of the paper’s diagram, explaining all of Renjun’s thought process and suspicions. All of the detailing was super amazing, and Jaemin felt more at ease knowing at least _something_ about the person. 

He could figure this out. 

He could be patient, just like Renjun said. 

They would get through this. 

Jaemin just had to wait. 

But after some more contemplation and deliberation, Jaemin decided to call Jeno that same night, heeding Donghyuck’s advice and not technically going against Renjun’s either, curling up under his covers. He realized just how familiar the situation was as he typed in Jeno’s number, the déjà vu creeping in. 

To no one’s surprise, Jeno didn’t answer. 

Jaemin let it go to voicemail five times before giving up. 

All he saw of Jeno was his back on Friday, rushing down the hallway during lunch. Renjun and Donghyuck gave him tight hugs, but they didn’t help much. Chenle and Jisung even sat with them and helped make Renjun’s presidential campaign signs, but even the maknaes couldn’t bring a smile to his face. 

Not even movie night cheered him up, but if his eomma noticed, she didn’t say anything. 

Jaemin went to Jeno’s house on Saturday, knocking insistently on the door, but Mrs. Lee answered and told him Jeno was out with a friend. 

On Sunday, Jaemin called Jeno, sitting in the park with tears streaming down his cheeks. The voicemail machine sounded like a broken record at this point, and Jaemin could repeat every single word by memory, each stabbing through his heart like knives. 

_To: ♥️Acorn♥️_

~~_How do you know when your heart is breaking?_ ~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! Some fun things are about to surface and we're buckling down for the ride...


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...after last chapter, I can promise that this is the peak! I'm doing my best to work through the angst but it's going to be a little while TT If it's too much for anyone right now, make sure you step away for as long as you need <3

“Bus is almost here, Jaejae!” His eomma called through the house as Jaemin rushed to throw his dishes in the sink and grab his backpack. 

“Coming!” She had been instrumental in getting him out of bed on that lovely Monday morning, the teenager totally unwilling to move and deal with the day and everything that it entailed. Her bribery for another movie night the next weekend was the sole thing motivating Jaemin to get up and face Jeno today. 

“Bye eomma, love you!” Jaemin threw a kiss in the general direction of his mother before hurrying out and slamming the door behind him. 

He didn’t really have his shoes on right (not that it mattered), and the fly of his pants was definitely down, but he could deal with that once he was on the transit 

_Damn, this is what I get for refusing to wake up._

Jaemin wheeled himself off the sidewalk at the exact second the handicapped bus pulled up outside, running just seconds late with half a piece of toast in his mouth, and he nearly took off his pinkie trying to get to the road before the crotchety bus driver took off without him. 

Kyungsoo was _not_ in a good mood today, evidenced by how he slammed the door behind Jaemin and stomped up to the steering wheel after he strapped Jaemin in, slinging the seatbelts around like no one’s business. His normally furrowed brows were even more creased, and his expression promised a slow and painful death to anyone who questioned him about it, rather than the usual, quick beheading. 

It was mildly disconcerting, but not too unusual. 

Jaemin could use some usual. 

Jeno still hadn’t said anything to him, hadn’t answered his texts, hadn’t even _read_ them. According to Renjun and Donghyuck, it was the same scenario for them as well. 

It was time for Jeno and Jaemin to talk, space be damned. 

Kyungsoo proceeded to remain moody and distant throughout the entire half-hour ride to the school, which wasn’t exactly atypical, but it did little to soothe Jaemin’s stressed-out nerves. When they got to school, Jaemin just let himself out of the belts and down the ramp, yelling a thank you over his shoulder, not wanting to risk a metal fastener to the face if his bus driver from hell hadn’t chilled out yet. 

His first period flew by pretty well. His paper from a few weeks ago got returned with a bright green A+ on it, that he took a few seconds to celebrate with some heartfelt emojis on the group chat along with a private message to thank Renjun for editing it for him (probably the only reason he passed, to begin with). 

His second period was just as good, although Jaemin was a little late this time, deciding not to brave the hallways since it was hot outside. Sue him, but if he had a “get to class late free pass”, he was not getting sweaty and shoved around in the crowded hallways. Worse, he didn’t want to run over toes again, that was an experience better left forgotten. He’d still beaten Professor Oh to the classroom though, as usual, because their teacher was known for being notoriously late. He was fond of the statement, “a teacher can never be late, their students are simply early”, and at least half of his students took full advantage of that principle. Needless to say, it was fine, and Jaemin got in no trouble. 

By third period, Jaemin had forgotten entirely about his lingering boyfriend problem and was happily enjoying bantering with Felix about their mutual friend whom the Australian had a crush on. 

In fourth period, he ended up in an impromptu truth-or-dare game because his study hall teacher, Mr. Zhang, didn’t give a fuck. In fact, Mr. Zhang played along too, until one girl dared him to kiss her, winking coyly, and that was apparently too much for the psychology teacher because he was quick to bow out. 

“Truth or dare?” Chaeyeon asked cheerfully, smiling innocently at Yeonjun. None of them were fooled. She was a _snake_ when she wanted to be and even worse of a flirt. And that was coming from Jaemin! 

“Truth?” Jaemin had quite honestly never seen the other boy look so petrified. 

“Goddammit!” Chaeyeon whined, busting out the aegyo. “I wanted to make you dye your hair green!” 

“Do you even have bleach with you right now?” Heejung asked, looking up from her phone for the first time since they started the game. The other girl was known for her social media addiction, and Jaemin often found himself wondering how she could even work the screen with fake nails so long. “Because if Yeonjun won’t do it, I will. It’ll be cheaper to get it from you anyway. I’ve been needing a good dye.” She picked at something under a sparkly gold nail, flicking it toward Jaemin, who leaned out of the way in disgust. 

“Gross, Heejung-noona,” he muttered, shooting the girl a dirty look. 

“Cry me a river, Jaeminnie dearest.” Heejung rolled her eyes over to give him a look and blow a fake kiss. 

“Wait, why green?” Yeonjun piped up, nudging Chaeyeon’s foot with his own before yanking it away as if burnt. “Why would I dye it green? No one looks good in green!” 

“Exactly,” Chaeyeon patted his cheek sweetly, teeth on full display. “You’re too pretty right now. You’re making us women work harder to get guys! You don’t even need all of them! Leave some for us!” 

Yeonjun’s cheeks flamed brighter than the sun, and Jaemin just laughed, pulling the older boy over to ruffle his hair affectionately. He liked the senior, and he was a sweetheart. 

“Let’s not assume Yeonjun wants a boyfriend, now, not all pretty boys are gay, my dears,” Jaemin interjected, smiling charmingly at the girls, but his eyes held a pointed look. 

“Yes, we know,” Chaeyeon agreed, nodding and looking sincere, before going back to torment Yeonjun, who was quickly starting to turn purple and looked vaguely like he was starting to hyperventilate. 

Maybe Jaemin needed to cut in…

“I think Jaemin would look cute with green hair,” Heejung piped up, derailing the current conversation and putting it back on track. 

“Hm, dear?” Jaemin wasn’t entirely listening to be quite honest, and it was just natural to switch on the charm and let it be. All of the teenagers in his study group were good people, and they wouldn’t talk him into a trap. 

“You’d look cute with green hair, Na Jaemin, keep up, darling.” 

“That’s flattering, but I’d think I’d have to pass on that.” Jaemin mused, tugging thoughtfully at his auburn strands. He’d just been re-dying it the same color but...green? He’d never thought of that one, for sure. Maybe pink? It was more neutral. 

“Suit yourself.” Heejung shrugged, taking a selfie of herself with duck lips. 

The school bell rang just as Chaeyeon was visibly regrouping to ask Yeonjun for his truth, and Mr. Zhang was shooing them out quickly, looking entirely ready to take a nap. Jaemin waved off the group's attempts to wait for him, bidding them goodbye before picking up his stuff, checking his phone as he went. 

All ten of his texts to Jeno, spaced out since seven am that morning, were unread and unanswered. Jaemin worked his jaw for a few minutes in annoyance, before calming down and heading towards the cafeteria. 

Renjun had suggested that he be patient. Donghyuck had ultimately agreed. 

But... it was Monday, making it ten days since Jeno ran out. 

Jaemin really was trying. It was just _really_ hard. 

But maybe Jeno’s phone was dead. 

For at least a week. 

It happened sometimes. 

Right? 

Jaemin formulated a text as he went, hoping somewhat unrealistically that Renjun and Donghyuck had made it to the cafeteria first and picked up lunch for all of them. It was jjajangmyeon day, and Jaemin really wanted a bowl before they ran out. He’d corner Jeno after school, during student council or something. 

Not like he hadn’t been trying already, but this time he was even more determined. 

To: _hot bebes_

_Usual for lunch? Did anyone get a table yet? [11:00]_

From: _Moomin otaku_

_Ya usual[11:00]_

_Hyuck and I are running late tho so no table [11:00]_

_Kwon is grumpy today >_< [11:01] _

Jaemin repressed a forlorn sigh, resigning himself to a bowl of cold fried rice in his future. 

To: hot bebes

_Damn, i hoped u guys were faster than me [11:01]_

_From: Moomin otaku_

_Sorry nana OTL [11:01]_

_From: ☆prettier than you☆_

_No [11:02]_

_Renjunnie is running late [11:02]_

_I’M gonna be skipping with Markie poo [11:02]_

_Oh and btw? [11:02]_

_I’m still waiting on u to clean my room Jaem [11:03]_

(^▽^) _[11:03]_

To: _hot bebes — > ☆prettier than you☆ _

_Bitch u and Mark aren’t official like Jen and I [11:04]_

_So no deal [11:04]_

_I am NOT cleaning your shithole of a room [11:05]_

He tried to ignore the tightening in his chest mentioning his boyfriend, not enjoying the suffocating feeling that came with it. Surely it was fine, right? Couples needed space from each other, not seeing each other every week was normal! Even Renjun had said so, and Renjun knew everything! 

But stealing keys and bolting wasn’t normal. Neither was returning them via locker and avoiding your significant other for days without offering up an explanation. 

No! 

Enough! 

It. Would. Be. Fine 

Remember the advice! 

Jaemin hopped in the cafeteria line to clear his mind, smiling his sweetest smile at Jongdae in an attempt to get the remaining bowl of jjajangmyeon. The cafeteria worker smiled brightly back, chuckling, and handed Jaemin two, one for himself and one for another lucky teenager, telling him not to waste it. 

Jaemin wouldn’t. He was always very grateful for kind teachers, and he was pretty sure Renjun would enjoy the other bowl too. Jeno didn’t deserve any because Jaemin was hurt and felt like being petty. 

Once he was situated at the end of their usual table, chopsticks out and ready to enjoy his food, he set his phone next to the bowl and resumed bickering with Hyuck with a rapidly-widening grin. 

Jeno, who? 

_From: ☆prettier than you☆_

_I’m sorry, did I ask? Markie poo and I were offic before u and Jen stood a chance [11:05]_

_*screenshot attached* Ta da! Fite me, nana [11:05]_

_To: hot bebes — > ☆prettier than you☆ _

_Stfu I hate u （￣ェ￣）[11:08]_

_From: ☆prettier than you☆_

_Don’t hate the player, hate the game [11:08]_

_(╯3╰)♡ [11:08]_

_From: Moomin otaku_

_… [11:08]_

_I feel like I missed something [11:08]_

That was the cue for their plan. Time for Jaemin to act. 

_To: hot bebes — > Moomin otaku _

_Dw bout it, Injunnie, it’s not important [11:09]_

_Has anyone talked to Jen? He hasn’t been answering my texts again >~< [11:09] _

Most of what they were saying was an act to get Jeno to say something, right down to the emoji in Jaemin’s question. The three of them had agreed that Jaemin’s solo efforts weren’t working, and that using the group chat might peer-pressure Jeno into appearing. It was a terrible solution, but it was all they had. 

In the meantime, Chenle and Jisung popped by to say hi to him before they ran off to go sit with a few other underclassmen. Jisung had looked momentarily enticed by Jaemin’s second bowl of noodles, looking contemplatively between his cold fried rice and the free bowl, but Chenle had dragged him away before the youngest could start begging. 

Lunch was starting to waste away, and Jaemin was starting to get concerned for both Renjun’s metabolism and Jeno’s suspicious absence. 

Jaemin couldn’t resist sending another text, anxiety getting the better of him, despite everything telling him to back off and let Jeno step up for once. 

To:♥️ _Acorn ♥️_

_Where are you, Jen? I wanna talk please. It’s been forever [11:10]_

His heart was beating far too quickly for his liking, and Jaemin clenched his fist at his side, trying to understand the turmoil going on in his brain. Nothing was making sense anymore. 

_From: Moomin otaku_

_Uh, no, sorry. He’s been ignoring me too [11:10]_

Jaemin’s heart sank faster than an anchor in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The question was planned, but the answers? Totally true. It just made him more anxious to get extra confirmation Jeno was _also_ ignoring Renjun. 

_From: ☆prettier than you☆_

_I haven’t either, he’s silenced me or something. Seriously, I called enough times in a row that there was no way he could’ve used his phone._

_[11:11]_

_None of us have seen him for two weeks, right? [11:11]_

_U know the easy way to do this? [11:11]_

_That wasn’t part of the script,_ Jaemin thought idly, twirling a chopstick between his fingers before replying with suitable confusion. 

_To: hot bebes — > ☆prettier than you☆ _

_??? [11:11]_

_From: ☆prettier than you☆_

_SPAM HIM!!!!! [11:11]_

Ah, go figure. Jaemin couldn’t help the little snicker that slipped past his lips as Donghyuck got up to his antics again, sending text after text. 

_From: ☆prettier than you☆_

_JENO [11:11]_

_JENO [11:11]_

_JENO [11:11]_

_JENO [11:11]_

_JENO [11:11]_

_JENO [11:11]_

_Hey nojaem [11:12]_

_Hey nojaem [11:12]_

_Hey nojaem [11:12]_

_Hey nojaem [11:12]_

_Hey nojaem [11:12]_

_Damn, I thought that would work. Anyway RJ will be there soon, Kwon let out, cya losers, imma enjoy ma date. [11:13]_

_To: ☆prettier than you☆_

_Go enjoy yourself, Hyuckie <3 _

Jaemin was happy for him, truly, even if he wanted his best bitch at his side more than ever. Donghyuck was always there for him; Jaemin could be there for him too by not being there at all. 

_From: Moomin otaku_

_Omw nana [11:13]_

_To: hot bebes — > Moomin otaku _

_K, c u soon [11:13]_

Jaemin shut his phone off and slurped at his noodles dejectedly. He had been hoping to get a chance to talk with Jeno about his disappearance to get it off his chest, and it looked like that wasn’t happening today either.

At least there was still delicious jjajangmyeon. 

Renjun interrupted his musings, plopping down in front of him and smiling, despite looking haggard and worn-out. 

And at least there was still one Huang Renjun to brighten his day by looking anything but! 

“Hi, Nana,” Renjun greeted, dropping his bag on the ground and eyeing the jjajangmyeon hungrily. “I don’t suppose that’s for…?”

“Take it.” Jaemin shoved it towards him, laughing when Renjun’s eyes grew as wide as saucers and his stomach growled audibly. “I got it for you.” 

Jaemin watched fondly as Renjun devoured the noodles with a can of chili paste that he kept in his backpack for occasions like this. The Chinese boy started to look more and more alive the more food he ate, and it reassured Jaemin just a little bit. Not everything was unusual right now; Renjun still skipped breakfast but ate lunch like a champion, and Donghyuck was still whipped for Mark Lee! Some things could maintain a semblance of normalcy! 

“Thanks, Jaemin,” Renjun announced, once his food was gone. “That was freaking delicious, I can’t believe you still made it in time.” 

“Yeah, me too. I guess Jongdae-ssi likes me.” 

“Must be.” Renjun pulled out a notebook, sliding it in front of Jaemin. “Can you do me a favor, Nana? Read through that for me and tell me if it sounds too arrogant?” 

Jaemin eyed the tattered notebook with apprehension. It was Renjun’s StuCo journal, and that meant it was full of years of campaigning, school funding information, and statistics that no one in their right mind needed to know. 

“Sure? Will it kill me?” Jaemin poked it with his index finger and cringed when the loose-leaf pages of paper shuffled around under the unassuming black vinyl cover. It had to weigh at least five pounds! 

“No, but I will if you keep it up.” Renjun cocked an eyebrow at him, looking both very scary and very squishy. 

“Duly noted.” 

The actual speech that Renjun wanted him to read was really good. It discussed the state of school funding concerning different extracurricular clubs, and it actually made a case for why fine arts classes were important to the overall development of a student’s education, not just sports. In addition to that, there were suggestions and carefully laid out plans for improved programs for handicapped students, both mentally and physically. Renjun’s writing was clear and concise without losing the obvious artistry and passion in his words, and Jaemin was reminded why his vote always went to the older boy when campaign time came around. 

“This is really good, Injunnie,” Jaemin told him, eyes delighted and earnest. “I love how you don’t just make empty promises and throw them around, but, instead, you lay out your plan to fix the issues you promise to try for. And, of course, your advocacy for fine arts is always compelling, and I think this year the school board will have to give in because your wording is flawless.” He leaned over to give Renjun an awkward side hug, sliding the notebook back to him. 

“Okay, that’s really good, I’m glad it came across well. Can you tell me what the best point is? What’s my weakest argument? Is there a statistic that doesn’t help? I don’t want to lose to Wong Yukhei!” 

Jaemin sighed dramatically and complained loudly, but he still took the folder back and dutifully helped Renjun analyze the speech. 

It was about three-quarters of the way through lunch when the entire atmosphere of the cafeteria changed ever so slightly, charging with whispers and excitement, and it was enough to draw Renjun and Jaemin out of their politics in curiosity. 

“What’s going on?” Renjun asked, peering over Jaemin’s shoulder to see the cafeteria door. 

“Well, I can’t check if my back is to the doors and you’re peering over my shoulder now, can I?” Jaemin teased, taking out his phone and holding it like he was taking a selfie. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Detective work.” Jaemin flipped the camera around, his face flooding the pixels before he started angling it in different directions to get a good view of the clamor behind them. There were lots of students crowding around the entranceway, and he couldn’t get a good view of the actual gossip-instigators. 

“Can you see who it is?” Renjun urged, poking Jaemin’s thigh rather pointlessly. “There’s a bunch of girls whispering intently behind me.” 

“Yeah, hold on.” Jaemin managed to pinpoint the couple causing all the fuss through a hole in the throng and snapped a picture, bringing it down to show Renjun. “Any idea who they are?” 

“Uh, that looks like Liu Rushi, I’d recognize that purple hair anywhere. She’s in my physics class, kind of closed off but super popular. I think she transferred in after I did.” Renjun trailed off at the end, nudging Jaemin’s phone closer to him and zooming in on the photo. “I can’t tell who the guy is,” Renjun muttered, glancing between the phone and in the general direction of the commotion “Wait! Oh my god, he kind of looks like Jeno?” 

Jaemin squinted at the boy in the photo, zooming in even further with Renjun as they knocked heads together trying to see better. The pixelation was truly horrendous, and it was a wonder they could even distinguish the mystery boy’s eyes. “He’s got a similar jawline and hair color,” Jaemin slowly agreed, “but most Asian men have dark hair, Injunnie. That’s not a solid identifier.” 

“I know, but he really looks like Jeno, look at his build,” Renjun insisted, looking behind Jaemin again at the other half of the mystery couple. “Should we call him? See if he answers?” 

“Who, Jeno?” 

“Yeah, why not? He isn’t answering any of our texts, and if he’s the one causing the fuss, he’ll check it, right?” 

“Okay, it's not like it’ll hurt to try. I can do it.” Jaemin punched in Jeno’s contact, hitting the speakerphone as the phone dialed. They both turned to watch the couple as they ordered lunch, trying to see if the dude reached for his phone. He glanced down at his pocket for a second, they noticed, but he ultimately ignored whatever it was in favor of tugging his most-probably-girlfriend closer. 

“Did that seem suspicious? I think it did. Call him again!” Renjun commanded, nudging Jaemin’s arm. “I’ll watch closer.” 

“Yeah, yeah, hold on.” 

This time probably-Jeno pulled his phone out of his pants as Jaemin’s own rang a third time, seemingly checking the contact info, before hitting a button and putting it away. Instantly, Jaemin’s phone hung up before the ringing had expired, meaning that Jeno had denied the call. 

Slowly, the pair of friends turned to face each other, identical grim expressions starting to spread across their features. Jaemin’s heart was beating out of his chest, that same dread from the phone call a week prior starting to coil in his gut. 

“You don’t think?” Jaemin asked, mouth hanging open a little in shock as he whipped around to track the couple’s path through the cafeteria. 

“It’d be one hell of a coincidence if it wasn’t.” 

They both stared at the couple, eyes boring holes into their backs as they talked and laughed, walking over to a table. 

“Do you think he’s…” Jaemin couldn’t even get the whole sentence out, too choked up by the implications. If that boy holding Rushi was Jeno...Jaemin’s heart was going to shatter into a thousand pieces. What could’ve possibly happened in just five days? 

“Oh, Nana, I don’t know.” Renjun’s fingers found their way between Jaemin’s own, and the younger boy latched on tight, clinging to Renjun like a lifeline. 

“I can’t believe he would...surely that’s not what this is! Tell me I’m being delusional, Injunnie, that isn’t Jeno, right? We can’t even see that well, yeah?” Jaemin went to turn around to look again, but Renjun’s hands shot up and cupped his face to stop him. 

“No, Nana, don’t.” His eyes were wide with shock before they glazed over carefully, and Jaemin knew in that second that something terrible was happening.

“Why?” 

“Trust me, you don’t want to look.” Renjun’s fingers were clamped tightly on his cheekbones and jawline, hooked carefully into the edge of his hair to keep him from moving. His eyes were full of sorrow and fury, simmering on the rims of his irises like molten gold. 

Jaemin wasn’t deterred. 

“Let me go!”

“No!” 

“Renjun,” Jaemin hissed, dangerously low, eyes glinting with something hard, “let go of me. I want to see.” 

Renjun’s hands fell away without any further protest, and guilt slid into his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Nana.” He looked so miserable and so crushed, and it scared Jaemin. 

Jaemin turned around slowly, heart weighing heavily in his chest as he allowed himself to look, to try to determine what he hoped wasn’t true, to see for himself what Renjun was trying to protect him from. 

He was sorry he did. 

No wonder Jeno was ignoring him. 

Just ten feet away from them, in full view of the entire school, Jeno was kissing another girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I was trying to avoid major cliffhangers but this one was unavoidable! I swear I’ll be back as soon possible, once my exams finish up OTL


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EXAMS ARE OVER! I CAN UPDATE AGAIN! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for all the comments on the last chapter, I enjoyed reading them! 
> 
> There’s been some question that I don’t like [Jeno](https://media.tenor.com/images/9c068b6120bb428103647676c0516698/tenor.gif) so I’m just going to share my favorite pictures of him to apologize for the mess his character has created in this story and tide everyone over until he’s good again because real [Jeno](https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/1254426762521350145/u7eeLPCl_400x400.jpg) is the sweetest and cutest fluffball (Reference [Love Again](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CLJo_QuWBjw) if you don’t believe me!)

The kiss looked intense. Jeno’s hands were wrapped around the entirety of Rushi’s waist in a way that he could never do with Jaemin, standing or sitting, and he was bent down a reasonable amount to give her access to his lips, nothing like the feet between him and Jeno on the daily. Rushi’s hands were intertwined at the base of Jeno’s neck, resting against his nape in the way that Jaemin loved to do. 

He was kissing her the way he kissed Jaemin in the kitchen, deep, wild, and full of reckless abandon, and the very sight ripped his heart to pieces. 

“Injunnie,” Jaemin whimpered, turning back to his friend with a stricken look on his face. _This cannot be happening._ “Please take me out of here.” 

His eyes were pulled back to Jeno, close enough to identify and yet far enough to spare Jaemin the juicy details of the kiss. Everything about Jeno screamed beauty and strength, but the only thing that bloomed in Jaemin was the excruciating feeling of betrayal. 

_He lied to me._

_He played me like a fiddle._

_And I was dumb enough to fall for it._

“Oh shit.” Renjun’s breathy exclamation crashed through the rising waves of panic consuming Jaemin, throwing him a lifesaver that screamed _hold on_.

“Oh my god, yeah. Let me return the bowls, _fuck,_ let’s go.” Renjun scrambled into action, nearly running back to the serving counter to return the bowls back to Jongdae, bowing nowhere near low enough, before rushing back to Jaemin’s side. 

“Here’s your backpack,” Renjun murmured, passing it to Jaemin, who accepted it as if in a daze. In the short span of time it had taken the older to clean up, Jeno had already moved his hands suggestively lower down Rushi’s back. The couple was disgustingly close for being in public, and Jaemin’s face screwed up with disgust as they parted enough that their tongues were visible in the space between their lips. 

It should have been natural, and it should have been disgustingly overdone, but all Jaemin could think was that _it should’ve been me._

He barely registered when Renjun’s hands closed around his wheelchair handles, the only signal being his fingers brushing against Jaemin’s shoulder blades. The gentle kiss of touch along his back is enough to send him over the edge, his skin aching under his t-shirt for Jeno’s hands that had rested there numerous times. Tears started to pool in his eyes as the Renjun shoved against the back of the chair in an effort to get the right momentum to push Jaemin. 

Normally, he would help. But nothing was normal anymore, and nothing made sense. 

The worst part was when they passed by Jeno without saying a single word, although Jaemin wanted, _needed,_ to say something, to get some sort of closure. He could tell the exact second Jeno saw them pass. The way his boyfriend’s body lurched ever so slightly towards them as Renjun bustled them past was telling, and it awakened a new wave of hurt that Jaemin had grown intimate with. He knew Jeno saw the tears pouring down his cheeks as he struggled in vain to keep it together. 

It would’ve been hard not to because Jeno was facing them. It would’ve been hard to ignore them and move on, but Jeno didn’t try to. Rather, he looked Jaemin straight in the eyes as they passed, and electricity crackled in the air as their gazes met. 

The only word to describe the look in Jeno’s eyes was empty. They were empty. No fondness, no affection; no regret, no smugness. Just disconcerting blankness. 

Jaemin looked away first, just milliseconds after they’d met, and he willed ice into his veins to combat the stewing anger. 

It would do him no good to make a scene. 

Jaemin wished he didn’t care. 

But he would be lying. 

His entire body spasmed for a second as Renjun hurried to get them the last few meters away before he could lose all his dignity, and while grateful, there was nothing Jaemin wanted more than to scream and make the world acknowledge his pain. 

“Where do you want to go?” Renjun’s voice was soothing to Jaemin’s swirling emotions, wrapping around them and squeezing comfortingly to keep the agony at bay.

It was going to be okay. Renjun had him for now. For now, he was totally safe. He could trust Renjun. 

“Anywhere away from h-him.” He hated the way his breath hitched so pitifully on the last word, but there was nothing he could do. Pain demanded to be felt. 

“Would going to Jongin be okay? I’m sure he’ll let you skip class.” 

Jaemin managed a mute nod as the image of Jeno kissing another person panned across his eyelids again. _Why is it so hard to get out of my head?_ Jaemin remembered the feeling of Jeno’s body against his own, torso pressed flush against his back, and it sent him into sobs, each one louder and more forceful than the last. 

Every time he unwillingly conjured a memory of Jeno, intimate or fun, it was combated by Jeno’s hands on her waist, the female voice in the background of the phone, and the quiet walk home alone these past few days. 

Renjun dropped him off in Jongin’s ward in record time, staying close by his side as the nurse declared him to be in shock. It was unnecessary, but it made the diagnosis final and ensured Jaemin a sick ward bed for as long as he needed. 

The nurse helped Renjun move Jaemin onto the railed cots, the latter supporting more than half the weight alone. They tucked him in all neat and cozy, and Jongin even procured a random blanket from a cabinet to cheer him up. When it was all said and done, he simply retreated into his office in silent support. 

Renjun sat next to Jaemin on the bed and held his hand, rubbing endless patterns over the freezing cold skin. His mouth moved relentlessly, talking about anything and everything, but Jaemin heard none of it. His presence was grounding but it wasn’t Jeno’s, and all Jaemin wanted right then was Jeno, no matter how much hurt he’d caused him. 

Love was funny in that sense. 

And yet...

Renjun rescued him because he didn’t want to see Jaemin in pain. 

Renjun stayed because he loved him and cared for him. 

Renjun helped move him because Jaemin needed him. 

At that moment, Renjun was nothing like Jeno.

 _Make it end!_

Jaemin just couldn’t handle the back and forth of his brain. It was like being trapped in limbo between two entirely different personalities that couldn’t decide if Jeno was an ass or if he was Jaemin’s lover. 

He wanted to rip out his brain and bury it right next to his heart. 

Renjun, bless him, stayed until Jongin shooed him out with the end of lunch bell, promising to come over to his house later with Hyuck. Renjun delicately wrapped his arms around him, holding him close, before taking his leave with one last look over his shoulder. 

Jaemin laid stationary on the cot after that, eyes totally unseeing, body unfeeling, allowing Jongin to do whatever he wanted to check his physical health. It wasn’t his physical being that was injured, anyway. 

It was his soul. 

_Jeno cheated on me_ , he thought, trying out the words in his head as a new round of sobs tear through him. _Jeno cheated on me with some random chick, just days after we made out and cuddled in my house. He cheated on me just weeks into our relationship._

The roof looked very sterile all of a sudden, pure white and reflecting the harsh illumination of the fluorescent bulbs. It was the perfect canvas for memories to pan across, and Jaemin’s brain delivered, the images flashing by in technicolor, old and dated, shimmering with an effervescent quality that dripped in delusion. 

_Cuddles in a hospital bed, hair pets and walks around the park as Jaemin got used to his new reality. Shimmering ribbons of laughter fading in and out of his consciousness as he struggled to leave the blissful darkness calling to him while he fought for his life._

_Bantering day and night in a way only they could. Senseless nonsense that only they could understand, straight out of Wonderland, solace in the easy, unparalleled companionship that could only be found in childhood friendships._

_Carrying him up the stairs at Mark’s house, finally working up the nerve to kiss his delicious lips, soft and plush in all the right ways as he fulfilled the apology Jeno had demanded._

_Ice cream dates, both platonic and romantic, wandering the streets of the city without a care in the world, holding hands in the worst of times during the lowest points in both their lives._

Each memory was more beautiful and reminiscent than the last, and Jaemin’s entire being screamed and cried re-living them. An entire history spanned the years he had known Jeno, a story full of twists and turns just waiting to be revealed that spoke of a friendship deeper than best-friendship. Thousands of moments made up the bond that they shared, and it would be nearly impossible for Jaemin to remove them entirely because Jeno had been such an important factor in shaping who he became as a person.

But it wasn’t all pretty, either. The world was not just sunshine and rainbows, after all. There was pain, tragedy, anger, and upset, dredged to the surface by his suffering. Jaemin knew all too well just how easy it was to fall back into the darkness. 

_Shattered windows and screams from inside the house reverberated through the crisp air as Jaemin stood on the sidewalk in fear, grappling between seeing Jeno and staying away for both of their sakes._

He still didn’t know what had happened that day. 

_The strange behavior of Mr. Lee concerning Jaemin, always cold and cruel when he came around, no matter what he did to try to win his favor. And the way Jeno was always different afterwards, always more closed off and careful._

_The fight over Yukhei’s unwavering attention that had since fizzled out, the swirling jealousy that had turned gentle Jeno into an impulsive one, arguing with Jaemin on the sidewalk outside the school._

And now, the unbreachable distance between them that had been brewing for days, the separation that had led to the blow-up that it was now. The blow-up that was tearing Jaemin’s sanity apart as he tried to figure out what could’ve possibly gone wrong. 

But the question that nagged the most at Jaemin’s brain was a simple one. It was two words, and yet the weight behind them belied the sheer desperation consuming the teenager. 

_How long?_

There were so many ways it could be used and warped to suit Jaemin’s needs. Each potential question that congealed in his mind was not very deep, but they were ugly and unpleasant. 

_How long has he pretended?_

_How long has he been with her?_

_How long_ would _he have pretended?_

And finally? 

_Maybe Jeno didn’t deserve me after all._

The thought awakened a new round of waterworks. Jaemin really was starting to feel like a sprinkler. 

  
  


Sixth period disappeared in the blink of an eye with the seventh quickly following suit. In no time, Jaemin should’ve been in Mr. Park’s eighth period, daydreaming and stealing Yukhei’s notes. Instead, he remained in the nurse’s office, alternating between sobbing and gasping for breath. 

Jongin didn’t do anything to disturb him, and Jaemin was grateful for the fact. He most definitely wasn’t allowed to let a student skip class in his office for non-medical reasons, but Jongin was kind like that. Maybe Renjun had explained it to him, Jaemin didn’t know. He had zoned out long before they’d arrived. Whatever the reason, bleeding heart or no, the nurse had simply ruffled his hair once before recessing back into his office sadly, right leg springing with each step he took. 

_How could my whole world fall apart in just one day?_

He didn’t know what time it was when Renjun and Donghyuck came to pick him up, but Jongin had already left to go to a meeting, his stuff packed up into a backpack resting by the door. 

“Take as much time as you need, kiddo,” Jongin had told him, placing a red bean bun on the table next to the heartbroken teenager before he gently closed the door behind him. The smile he had sent him spoke volumes, and Jaemin was reminded how often he forgot that adults had been teenagers once too. 

His two friends had had some trouble manoeuvering his wheelchair over to the bed, bickering heatedly about who was causing the problem before realizing that the wheels were locked with sheepish expressions. 

Jaemin watched them quietly, not saying a word as they dragged his mobile transport system over and eyed his body with mild apprehension. Renjun looked as calm as he had earlier, despite being dressed in his student council uniform, identical to the one Jeno must have worn earlier that day. 

Meaning, Renjun had seen Jeno once since the incident in the cafeteria. Jaemin wondered how he was briefly before realizing that it wasn’t his job to care anymore. 

Donghyuck, on the other hand, looked insanely livid, hard lines cut into the plane of his face, his expression as unyielding as granite. Mark’s ball cap was tugged over his caramel hair backwards, tufts of his bangs poking out of the ponytail hole, while his Utah hoodie’s sleeves swallowed his hands within the folds. Admittedly, they took away quite a bit of the scary aura, but Donghyuck still looked quite intimidating, in Jaemin’s humble, heartbroken opinion. 

He took a few seconds to reorganize his brain, filing cheating boyfriends and heartbreaking betrayals into the cabinet for _LATER._ He could cry over Jeno later. At night. With no one around. And maybe a bucket of ice cream. 

Was he in shock? 

Did normal people react like this? It only took three-plus hours to get over infidelity in a committed relationship in which you were very much in love with your partner? 

That didn’t sound right. 

He’d research it later. 

“Are you ready to go, Jaem?” Renjun asked, hauling Jaemin’s bag over his shoulder along with his own. They looked quite heavy, and the slight boy looked like he was crumbling a little under the weight. 

“Yeah.” Jaemin hauled himself into an upright position and reached for his wheelchair, tugging it into the gap in the bars. Donghyuck held it still for him while he transferred, minimizing the chance of an awkward fall, and Jaemin situated himself before adjusting his twisted legs to line up his feet with the footrests. Once he was done, he reached for his backpack from Renjun, who was definitely struggling under the weight of all seven textbooks. 

“Give it to me, Renjunnie. I can hold it. You look like you’re about to snap in half.” 

“I’m fine,” He gritted out, a pained smile making an appearance before it was tucked away again. 

“Oh, for god’s sake, hand it to him. Be grateful he’s trying to be useful!” Donghyuck snatched the bag from Renjun, plopping it in Jaemin’s lap. The teasing was obviously fake, but it was an effort that was appreciated. 

_Normalcy, I want it back,_ Jaemin begged. 

The thought lingering at the forefront of his mind, Jaemin went to push himself out the door, but Donghyuck’s hands hauled him back, finger wagging scoldingly in his face. 

“Nuh uh uh!” He tutted, hands on his hips commandingly. “You’re out of commission, pretty boy. I’m pushing you, don’t even try to protest because you won’t win.” 

Jaemin sagged back into the chair gratefully, not even putting up token resistance. His head hurt anyway, nearly as much as his suppressed and confined heart, and if someone was going to help him instead...well, his old self would have scoffed at the mere idea. 

He had grown quite a bit since then. 

So had Jeno. 

But had they grown apart?

_So much for being in shock._

Jaemin’s eyes watered for the nth time as Renjun caught his eyes with a thoughtful look. 

“Let’s not have any more of that,” Renjun murmured softly into his ear and patted his shoulder before sashaying in front of them to sweep the door open with a low bow. “Shall we, gentlemen?” 

Jaemin’s answering chuckle was only half fake. 

The entire walk across campus was rather monotonous and bleak from Jaemin’s shattered rose-colored glasses. The cherry trees were blooming beautifully, yes, but all Jaemin could think about was that they will die in a few weeks, nothing but a memory in the minds of passersby. The birds had returned to the trees with the end of winter from weeks ago, but their cries sounded cacophonous to Jaemin’s despondent eardrums. 

Perhaps he needs to reconsider his previous thought about being okay. 

Honestly, _what_ was this back and forth going on inside his brain?

Renjun and Donghyuck were trying to immerse him in mindless chatter once they reached the streets when Jaemin happened to glance up, eyes catching on the couple in front of him. 

They were only holding hands as they walked, fingers interlaced tightly and lovingly, the man’s thumb stroking over his girlfriend's. It was by no means ridiculously gross and it was not even a two on the PDA scale, but it was enough to make Jaemin’s heart catch in his chest. 

And _oh._

 _Oh_. 

_The pain is back_ , he thought distantly, clutching his bag closer to his chest in an attempt to soothe it. It was back and stabbing insistently at his heartstrings, sharp and barbed like a fishing hook, trying to anchor itself within the muscle to deliver that final tug. 

_I guess I’m not one of those people who can recover in four hours._

Salt water dripped from his eye, burning a fiery path down his cheek and falling into his shirt, leaving a trail of ash in its wake. Bitter sadness welled up from the deepest recesses of Jaemin’s being, howling and vicious as they spilled through the ducts in his eyes. 

Forget being fine. 

Forget whatever scraps of a relationship they might have had. 

Forget _eleven years of friendship_. 

What Jaemin was never going to forget was this moment, this moment that hit him in the face like a sledgehammer, brutal and cruel. He was never going to forget what being thrown away felt like; he was never going to escape the pain of knowing _he doesn’t want me_. Even if Jeno tried to explain himself, Jaemin would never forget this moment. 

Because you know what? Being thrown away for someone else, someone brand new, by the person you love most in the world, is the most disgusting, invalidating feeling in the world. There was nothing worse than entrusting your heart to someone, falling in love with them, and having them take it, nurture it, and then smash it to the ground in front of your eyes just to watch you crumble while holding on to someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was initially nervous to share this chapter because a lot of personal emotions and experiences bled into the creation, but overall, I’m pretty satisfied with the result :) 
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated, one can never be late to a story! 
> 
> Stay healthy and happy everyone, see you next week <3


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm so this is mildly long and there’s a ton of mood swinging. I love love loved reading all the comments under last chapter! They never cease to make me smile, even if they’re ranting about Jeno being a dumbass :) 
> 
> I didn’t really know what to say for an A/N this time but I wanted to make one Lol I’m sure it’s absolutely riveting! Enjoy, guys <3

Renjun and Donghyuck got him home much faster than Jaemin himself did usually, although that was probably due, in part, to the fact that Jaemin tended to enjoy experiencing his surroundings and not just bustling through the world like it was a marathon he was trying to win. The arrival was only half of the journey, after all. 

Whatever the reason was, Jaemin was still eternally grateful for his best friends and even more so when they offered to stay the night after checking up with their own parents. Donghyuck had had to persuade his twin to babysit their younger siblings instead, having to hand over his second-favourite eyeshadow palette as payment, but he did so willingly for Jaemin. 

It was nice. 

By the time they had all finished their unforgiving amount of homework, Jaemin was mostly okay again, water stains littering his history paper like no one’s business. He had done some hard-core removal of Jeno from his brain, and he was somewhat ready to deal with his new reality. 

Well, sort of. 

Workaholic-ism was a pretty common deflector in his family, and Jaemin was no better than his ancestors. 

His eyes wandered around their living room absently. The bookcases looked the same as always, slightly dusty but elegant and imposing as they stretched from floor to ceiling. The tv stand was slightly obscured by the stack of movies and dvds, but the flower-painted wood was still showing, chipped and faded from age. Someday Jaemin would get around to re-decorating it. 

Of course, the couch was decorated with teenagers, but beyond the obvious, his mother’s beloved cross-stitch pillows were strewn around, all four embroidered with distinctly different designs. They had been a wedding gift from her mother in law, and Jaemin’s favorite was one that depicted a galaxy of stars, sprinkled across the black material in beautiful bands of metallic thread. It had an air of mystique and magic that Jaemin loved, and although it was a bit itchy, he always found himself holding it on movie nights. 

After drifting across his friends, Jaemin’s eyes came to rest in front of him once more, this time on the carved oak coffee table that was littered with the remnants of their homework and various little sculptures that his relatives had gifted his mother and him over the years. A rope horse stood proud in the center of the display, towering over the other creatures with an imposing air. To its right, a stack of turtles perched precariously on top of each other, held together by plaster yet looking animated and lively nonetheless. A marble wolf went toe to toe with a rubber rabbit, and Jaemin’s fingers traced over the rhino eraser to their left for a minute before fishing his phone out of his pocket. 

A text from his mum had confirmed that it was okay for Donghyuck and Renjun to stay the night so long as they pulled their weight with cooking dinner and went to bed at a decent time, and Jaemin thanked her profusely while also promising to make hotteok for dessert. It was both because he wanted to and because he wanted to smooth out the revelation that Jeno was unfaithful. She wouldn’t take kindly to it, and Jaemin wasn’t quite ready to bash his potentially-ex boyfriend yet. 

His mother responded by telling him that she had  _ another _ date with Junmyeon and probably wouldn’t be back until later, and Jaemin wished her fun and also told her to be a responsible adult, to which she promptly responded to with a very mature edit of a spiteful sticking-out-tongue emoji they had made long ago.

Perhaps he should’ve told her straightaway what his problem was and why Donghyuck and Renjun were actually staying over, but she didn’t ask and Jaemin hadn’t felt like being forthcoming at the moment. If she wasn’t going to be home for dinner but was, instead, going to have fun, Jaemin sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin her romantic moment with his tragic one. 

Even if it was Dr. Junmyeon. 

Gross. 

Closing out of his text chat with her left Jeno’s name at the top of his screen, in his recents, and Jaemin couldn’t help being drawn to it, lingering far too long on the hearts next to his contact name. One click had the chat history opening, and Jaemin’s thirty-two unanswered texts burned holes into his eyes. His finger hovered over the block button in the corner, but he couldn’t bring himself to hit the button. 

Jaemin closed his eyes as a shudder racked his whole body.  _ Press the button,  _ he told himself, gritting his teeth.  _ Don’t give him this power. He doesn’t deserve it.  _

His thumb stayed where it was, however.

The slide of water down his cheekbone was tragically familiar. 

Tucking his phone into his pocket gave him a strange sense of calm, and Jaemin rolled out his shoulders in response, feeling the tension wound up in them. He could get through this funk and into the healing. He just needed distance. 

_ With the way Jeno’s been acting, it should be easy _ , he scoffed bitterly, clamping down on his tongue before he could say it outloud. 

Looking over at his friends again confirmed that Donghyuck was done with homework as well while Renjun was still struggling with all of the advanced college course notes he had to take because he was smart. The poor boy was drowning in notebooks and sheets of paper, looking stressed and worn out as he chewed on the eraser of his pencil. Exams were nearing and Renjun, ever the reliable and responsible one in the group, was studying dutifully every single day. 

“Do you think McDonald’s is a better representation of economics of scale or globalization? I can’t seem to decide because globalization is also good for the spread of English and decrease in indigenous cultures, but then if I do that, I have to change a couple other answers in the rotational shuffle, which definitely means I’m wrong somewhere.” He looked up at Jaemin through the lenses of his reading glasses, and Jaemin and Donghyuck swapped mutual ‘what?’ looks before Donghyuck decided to say it first. 

“What on earth are you talking about, Injunnie?” 

“Wait, what about the way dogs integrate their sense of smell into their brain? I know they use chemoreceptors but I can’t for the life of me remember how!” The eldest seemed supremely stressed, and Jaemin couldn’t help but sympathize. The two subjects Renjun was agonizing over were totally over his head, and Jaemin was best friends with school subjects that were over his head. 

“Is it in your notes?” 

“No! That’s the problem! I’ve read over them so many times, but I simply can’t find the answer! I know I take good notes so why can’t I find it?” Renjun wailed, tugging at the strands of his hair violently. Jaemin watched a few strands come unstuck quite easily and winced in sympathy for his friend’s scalp. “I’m going to fail if I can’t answer something as simple as that, there’s no way I can possibly get a good score! Then my admissions will be slower and I’ll have to pay more for college and the entire thing will be ruined!” Donghyuck shot Jaemin a look, mouthing  _ go start dinner _ , before swapping couches and sitting next to Renjun.

“Shh, calm down, Injunnie,” he soothed, combing his fingers through the side of Renjun’s hair sweetly. “You’re not going to fail because you’re literally the smartest person I know, and one missed college credit point will not ruin your admissions. Can you hand me your notes? I’ll look one more time, maybe you’ve missed something because you’re so stressed. Can you tell me what you were looking for, again?” 

When Renjun wailed harder, Donghyuck wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding the slight boy tightly. It was rather disconcerting how quickly the eldest went limp, dropping like a sack of potatoes in his arms. “It’s gonna be okay, baby.” 

“Not your baby,” Renjun muttered back, but he didn’t protest when Donghyuck guided his head towards his shoulder, plopping it down with a loud crack that made the younger wince in pain. Jaemin just smiled briefly at them before bustling into the kitchen to start dinner. 

It was second nature for him by now to start the water on the stove while chopping vegetables, slicing and dicing neatly with little effort. Times like this made him appreciate the fact that their countertops were abnormally short, when he could just hang out in the kitchen and cook things to provide for his loved ones without having to worry about the little handicaped hindrances that normal people don’t have to deal with. Tall countertops, stairs, too-tall bathtubs, all of which Jaemin’s house didn’t have, making him an extremely lucky accidental-parapalegic. 

It wasn’t like he and his mum could afford to live anywhere else. 

His rice was finishing cooking when Donghyuck carried in an exhausted Renjun piggy-back style, setting him down at the dining room table before wrapping his arms around Jaemin, who was stirring a pot at the stove. 

“How’s it going?” His lips were tickling as they moved against his un-styled and unusually fluffy hair, but Jaemin didn’t mind. Donghyuck and him had always been fond of cuddles, and both needed skinship to survive anyway. Any touch was appreciated at the moment. 

“Are we talking about my cooking or my mental health?” 

“Whichever one you want.” 

“The rice is done, and the bulgogi needs to be heated up from the fridge.” 

“Got it. Need help?” Jaemin was so grateful that Donghyuck didn’t pry. 

“Mm, grab the container for me? It’s on the top shelf near the right, back corner.” 

Donghyuck and Jaemin finished preparing the food right about when Renjun decided it was time to wake up and stop slumping across the dining room table like a rag doll. He did look very cute and small however, and Jaemin resisted the urge to pinch his cheeks as he set the bowls on the table. 

That was a good sign. Picking on Renjun was normal. 

“Doing better now, Renjun?” Donghyuck teased, slapping Renjun’s butt playfully as the boy stood up and stretched with his arms above his head, yawning loudly. 

“I’m too tired to try to kill you.” 

“That’s okay.” 

  
  


They were eating dinner peacefully at the table when Jaemin’s phone rang, buzzing insistently on the counter. He couldn’t tell who it was because his ringer was on silent but when it fizzled out and started vibrating again, Jaemin decided it was important. 

“Can I get that?” He asked, pointing vaguely towards his phone with his chopsticks, not wanting to be impolite. 

“It’s your phone,” Donghyuck quipped, tilting his head to the side teasingly and laughing when Jaemin tossed his chopsticks at him. A grain of rice landed on his shirt, and Donghyuck just picked it off and shrugged, popping it into his mouth with a smirk. 

“I hate you,” he muttered, collecting his phone and bringing it back to the table. 

“Who is it?” Renjun asked in between shoveling food into his mouth like someone was going to steal it from him. 

“I don’t know, I haven’t checked the ID yet!” 

“Well, why not? Why didn’t you? That’s, like, what everyone does  _ first!”  _

“I’m sorry!” Jaemin screeched, “would you like to do it yourself?” His tone was playfully irritated as he turned it over to look and make a mocking face at his best friend in retaliation. 

His expression fell pretty quickly though as the name flashed up on the screen. The bubble hearts were unmistakable, and the contact picture was even more heart-wrenching—he couldn't help but feel his naïvety through the screen. 

No. 

No way.

Not him. 

“Well, who is it?” Donghyuck griped, making grabby hands at the phone, but to his surprise, Jaemin just handed it over wordlessly. 

“Oh really? That was easy! This must be...good...” Donghyuck stared at it too before glancing over at Jaemin, clearly worried. “Do you want us to handle it?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“What? What’s going on?” Renjun pushed his way out of his seat and between the two of them, knocking into a glass of water but managing to save it. 

The sharp intake of breath was all Jaemin needed to hear to confirm he wasn’t overthinking the gravity of the situation. 

“Oh. Oh, shit.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Jeno, you dumbass,” Renjun whispered, eyeing Jaemin’s phone with an equal sense of trepidation. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” 

“Give me the phone.” Donghyuck pried it out of the eldest’s frozen hand to hit the answer button, looking mighty pissed, holding it up to his mouth before speaking. “You have two minutes, asshole, what do you want?” 

“Oh, my god Jaemin, I’m so sorry, I can explain!” Jeno’s frantic voice ripped his proverbial wounds right open again, and Jaemin could feel the blood dripping down the sides of his heart. 

Talk about a dramatic day. 

There was definitely some scuffle going on in the background, and the sound of glass breaking crashed through the speakerphone. Jaemin shuddered. 

“Wait, this is Jeno by the way,” his soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend said, clearly scrambling for something in the background. Jaemin wanted to cry.  _ He can’t even take two minutes to pay full attention to me.  _

“Wait, you’d already know that because my contact is in your phone, oh my god, I’m dumb as fuck!” The babble continued, and a yell crackled through the phone. Jeno’s responding yelp could be heard clearly before something landed on top of the speaker, most probably his hand, to muffle whatever he said next. 

They all swapped curious looks as they waited for Jeno to come back, although Donghyuck was eyeing the seconds hand on his watch the whole time. 

“Jaemin,” Jeno gasped as his voice filtered through clearly again, sounding ragged and torn. “I’m so sorry, Nana.” 

Jaemin couldn’t stop the fond smile that creeped onto his face, but he stamped it down rather quickly when he saw the mutinous look on Donghyuck’s face. Renjun’s hand creeped towards his on the table, but Jaemin couldn’t bring himself to grasp it. 

_ Why is Jeno calling me?  _

_ Is he trying to play games with my heart?  _

_ I thought he made it abundantly clear we were over. _

_ Am I weak if I don’t go running?  _

He inconspicuously moved his hands up to cup his cheeks in case his tears started to fall again. Renjun glanced over at him for a second but didn’t comment, just shooting him a tiny, reassuring smile. 

Jaemin didn’t even try to fake one back as the tears started flowing. He could feel them sliding down the backs of his hands as his eyelashes brushed the edges of his fingers in an effort to stem their progress. 

Nothing helped. 

__ “Oh my god, you haven’t hung up yet, that’s a good sign! Oh my god, I don’t even know what to say right now, it’s so overwhelming.” 

“As if he has any right to be overwhelmed,” Donghyuck scoffed quietly, reaching over to squeeze Jaemin’s shoulder, who just shrugged him off. A hurt look flashed across his best friend’s face before it was tucked away. 

Jaemin still flinched though. It seemed he was incapable of doing anything right. 

Jeno’s continued babble amid the chaos in the background was weirdly comforting in the rawest of ways, even if it was all Jaemin could do to keep from yelling in frustrated confusion. His hands were clamped over his mouth as silent tears ran down his cheeks, and Jaemin’s heart had never felt so manipulated. 

He could feel the edges of his mouth turn and pull as the ugliest sob broke across him, the kind where the screaming never ceases in your mind but can’t escape your lips. It scrunched up his eyes as the wheezes spilled like water, and Jaemin felt so  _ disgusting _ that his own tears repulsed him. 

“Okay, so as I was saying, it isn’t what it looks like, and I swear I can explain everything! You have to trust me, Jaem, I need you to—“ 

“No, you don’t need Jaemin to do anything,” Donghyuck interrupted, scowling down at the phone. “You don’t even deserve to talk to him right now, and you certainly shouldn’t be calling him. Save it, Jeno. You broke his heart, and you don’t get to try to pick up the pieces. You can talk to him when  _ he’s  _ ready because you lost all right to anything concerning Jaemin the second you kissed that girl in the canteen. You get five seconds before I block your ass, Lee Jeno.”

Donghyuck’s words were cruel and brutal, but nothing he said shouldn’t have been said. He was right. 

So why didn’t it feel right? 

Jaemin’s brain was starting to give him freaking whiplash, he felt so sick. The tides roaring inside him had ebbed slightly, and the hissed noises had ceased, but the slimy feeling lingered on his skin in excess. 

It felt like he was living the children’s game where you plucked petals off flowers, changing between does and doesn’t, although instead of blossoms, Jaemin was playing with the pins of grenades, waiting for the right pin to come loose and blow him to pieces. 

_ I love him, I love him not, I love him, I love him not… _

A sound started building up in his chest, climbing up his throat as the waves of agony started crashing in his mind. 

“I’m sorry!” Jeno sobbed, sounding utterly destroyed, tugging on Jaemin’s heartstrings. “Donghyuck, tell him I’m sorry, there’s a good reason, I swear I can explain, and that I love—“ 

_ I CAN’T— _

Donghyuck hung up just as Jaemin’s inhuman sob broke, the sounds crashing over him in waves. All eyes whipped over to stare at him, and Jaemin reddened, hastily wiping tears from his eyes. A few still escaped him, but no one commented on it. 

It took him a few minutes to tamp down the strangled shrieks and sobs. 

Afterwards, the friends sat in mutual silence for a while, finishing the food that Jaemin had cooked, the hole in their dynamic glaringly obvious. There was a great big gaping space where Lee Jeno should’ve been, making horrendous jokes to fill the charged silence. 

Instead, it was filled with the clink of utensils against bowls. 

Jaemin took the time to escape into his mind and the turmoil that it was in, spinning in circles as it tried to determine what Jeno could’ve possibly done to not be guilty. Jaemin wanted to believe with his entire being that Jeno hadn’t meant to cheat, but all the signs lined up pretty well, and the evidence had been right in front of his eyes. Yet...he still loved Jeno. 

It was very discombobulating. 

But thinking helped. 

So, Jaemin kept doing it. 

To no one’s surprise, Donghyuck was first to break the silence and interrupt the tentative peace spread across the dinner table. Instantly, both boys stiffened in anticipation, Jaemin’s fingers white-knuckling around his chopsticks. 

“That son of a bitch, I cannot believe he had the audacity to call you after what he did! Does he not realize what it feels like to be cheated on? Oh wait, he can’t because Jaemin never cheated! What the hell did he want to accomplish?” Donghyuck looked murderous, chewing on the meat viciously with crushing force. It was a random thought, but Jaemin couldn’t help but feel bad for the beef. 

“Maybe it was, but I wish you had let him try to explain,” Jaemin remarked mildly, sadness having long dried to salt on his cheeks, glancing over at his friend. “Now, I don’t know anything except that Jeno thinks he can talk his way out of what I saw. And,” he shoot the boy a pointed look, “I don’t even know how he plans to do that.” 

To his credit, Donghyuck deflated quickly, looking like a kicked puppy. The regret was pretty clear in his face, and the pouted lips did a good job of trying to deflect Jaemin’s passive aggressive tones to another subject. 

“I’m sorry,” he whined, slumping down into his chair, sliding Jaemin’s phone towards him. “I just saw that you were crying and that it was his fault, and I already wanted to punch him and that was the closest thing. I’m really sorry, Jaemin. I know I overstepped...” 

Jaemin wanted to give in so badly but…

Everyone always wanted to help him. With his wheelchair, with his emotions, with his boyfriend, and it just got tiring. He was fully capable of doing things on his own, and while help could be appreciated at the right moments, it just didn’t feel like this was the right moment. 

“I know you want to protect me, but I can handle myself. I’m the one who got burned, and I can deal with the consequences. He’s my boyfriend, and I deserve to be able to deal with him on my own.” It was a relief to get the words out into the open, and his heart felt a little lighter admitting it. 

“I know...I’m sorry, Nana.” 

“It’s okay.” And it was. Donghyuck simply wanted to look out for him, and having people in your corner was a good thing, not a bad one. 

Just, sometimes, it was nice to be free. 

Disgruntled, Donghyuck ducked his head back towards his bowl and made a big production of finishing off his rice, cheeks red. Jaemin could feel the amusement within his chest, but he couldn’t bring himself to laugh without feeling like puking. 

“You know what we should do?” Renjun cut in suddenly, looking excited. It was such a random interjection into a serious conversation, and the question was distinctively not Renjun-esque. There was a mildly manic look in his eyes, and it made Jaemin wonder if he was not the only one who lost it that day. 

But the nausea had subsided when he asked. 

That was good. 

“What should we do?” 

“We should dye our hair!” Renjun beamed at them and clapped his hands together excitedly. 

Jaemin was not amused, although the sick feeling wasn’t taking over him either. It was more so a distinct sense of déjà vu. 

_ What’s with everyone trying to dye my hair today?  _

The thought was almost enough to make him laugh. 

“Um, what?” 

“That’s a great idea! And it’s an excellent I’m-over-you-move!” 

“I’m not over him though!” 

“Yeah, it’ll be perfect!” 

“What?! No! I’m not letting you anywhere near my hair!” 

Jaemin’s protest fell on deaf ears, unfortunately, and it appeared that Chaeyeon would be getting at least one boy with newly dyed hair to fawn over because Renjun was  _ prepared.  _ The eldest had bleach packets and over-the-counter dye all in his backpack, along with hairpins and all the bobbles to do the job. He even had old school t-shirts to wear that had seen far better days. 

Cleaning up dinner was super fast because Rnejun and Donghyuck were too excited to get new dyes, and, while their buzz was starting to hype him up as well, Jaemin couldn’t help but think about the implications of dying his hair right after Jeno. 

Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it felt like one to him. 

“Are you excited?” Donghyuck screeched, shaking him by the shoulders and smiling like a maniac. “It’s going to be so fun! Do you remember the first time we did it and Injunnie’s mum freaked?” 

“I do and I guess?” Jaemin shook his head to clear his funk. “What colors does Renjunnie have?” 

“Rainbow!” Donghyuck chirped, taking the dishes from Jaemin and waltzing to the sink to drape himself over Renjun who was scrubbing hard enough that bubbles were starting to erupt from the sink. Jaemin probably should’ve cared more than he did, but now wasn’t really the time. “I kind of like that idea…” 

The chatter became mindless and small as they bustled around to get ready for the bleaching process. Jaemin just kind of spaced out eventually, letting Renjun take the dishes from him without protest. 

When they called him to the living room, Jaemin pulled a smile of sorts before telling them that he’d be out soon. It was almost easy to hide behind that smile, to mask the emotions with the facade. 

But when no one was paying attention, Jaemin’s thoughts drifted back to the phone call and Jeno’s voice, panicked as he tried to prove himself, and a small, vaguely bitter smile graced his face. 

Maybe it was wrong, and maybe it would come back to hurt him in the long run, but Jaemin hadn’t been anything but broken deep inside for months, even if he tried to mask it, and Jeno’s behavior wouldn’t change the truth that resonated from every fiber of his being. 

_ Tell Jaemin...that I love _ —

Everyone always talked about how it felt to be in love, but no one ever talked about what it felt like to be falling out of it. Jaemin wondered if it was a gradual process that spanned an immeasurable length of time, impossible to pinpoint yet distinct when it manifested, or if it was as simple as falling asleep, a closing of your eyes and the sensation was gone. 

How had it felt to Jeno? Was what he had with Jaemin so insignificant that a single girl could waltz into Jaemin’s place as simply as breathing? 

Was  _ Jaemin  _ that insignificant? 

“I love you too, Jen,” Jaemin whispered sadly, looking into his reflected eyes in the glass of the microwave. His eyes, one of his favorite features, smooth and warm, usually alight with mischief and flirtiness, were hollow. 

He hated it. 

They had never looked so broken, glittering like dying stars, waiting for the right moment to explode. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you all next week! Stay safe and happy <3


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg I am SO sorry, I thought I posted this already!! I was debating holding it due to the global issues right now the instant I realized but I decided that I was going to try to keep writing. Please be patient with me, it’s a little hard right now ;; If anyone’s still here, thank you for reading, I appreciate you all<3 
> 
> T/W: panic attack
> 
> And I just wanted to say this because I don’t have any sns and my influence only stretches to here: There is an influx of atrocities being committed in the world right now. Many of them are centered in specific countries, but their core issues can be seen in other countries or violate a broader spectrum of human rights. In the Philippines, the government is trying to violate their citizen’s right to freedom of speech. In Poland, members of the lgbtqai+ community have become public enemies in the eyes of politicians. I’m sure there are countless other things I simply don’t know about. 
> 
> But the controversy in the USA is making global headlines. Please, think of the Black Lives Matter movement in America and consider the environment around yourself as well. We are all humans, and every person deserves a right to life. Racism and bias are present everywhere, but together we can make a peaceful and informed cry for justice. Petitions, donations, protests, and sns support are all good ways to help raise awareness for the movement, even from other countries. Together we stand, as one people #BlackLivesMatter
> 
> If there is/are any readers here who are affected by these issues, I see you, I hear you, and I will fight for you 
> 
> Love,  
> SDM

The actual dye process wasn’t too complicated, although it did take up a lot of time. Jaemin found himself enjoying the mindlessness of sitting against the tub and waiting for the dye to set, hair pulled back by patches as Renjun and Donghyuck gossiped animatedly over him. All of them had picked colors that had spoken to them at the moment, and Jaemin had nearly chosen an entirely different one for himself before changing his mind at the last second. He had decided that no one would care what he picked because confidence could help you pull off anything, and he wanted to do something he’d have never done otherwise. 

He couldn’t wait to see how it looked, but they had all made a pact not to look at their own hair until the next morning. It was to be a surprise, although, obviously, if the other two were snickering too often, the owner of the dye job could be assured that it was probably terrible. 

The beauty of hair was that it _did_ grow back. 

Jaemin thought his hair was in good hands, though, as Renjun started undoing Donghyuck’s wrap to reveal the new hair color. It looked good, but Jaemin was going to refrain from thinking too hard about it lest he ‘accidentally’ tell Donghyuck about it. 

Really, he just didn’t want to talk about their dyes at all. The connotation wasn’t sitting right with him at the moment, and the last thing he was supposed to be doing was thinking about Jeno. Which, great, was now what he was thinking of. He felt strange for associating his old auburn hair with being with Jeno, but some part of him reasoned that it was the hair he’d had when Jeno fell in love with him so therefore it was wrong to move on so quickly. 

Even Jaemin himself had to admit that it sounded pretty stupid. 

He knew it was natural to be upset about your best friend dumping you for some new chick, but the revelation was still foreign enough that it stung at his eyes and left a hollow sensation in the pit of his stomach. It was nasty, but it was better than the all-consuming sadness that had plagued him earlier. 

In a strange way, it felt better than the worthlessness he had felt when Jeno was avoiding him. He wasn’t fighting imaginary demons anymore; they were real now. 

Sighing quietly, he let his head roll to the side on the edge of the tub, looking away from Renjun and Donghyuck to stare aimlessly at the tiles along the wall of the toilet cubicle. The smooth porcelain digging into the nape of his neck was mildly uncomfortable, but Jaemin was too lazy to adjust to a better position. 

His eyes fell on his wheelchair, parked against the edge of the sink since he had no need for it currently and hadn’t wanted it in the way. It was still the same sleek black that it had been when he’d received it from the hospital, and Jaemin decided that he needed to do something to it. Whether it be paint or decorate it with stickers, it needed more of a personality. The black was nice and mysterious in all, but it didn’t feel like _his._ Maybe if it felt more personal, Jaemin would like it more. 

Not that Jaemin wasn’t used to being in the metal transport contraption at this point. No, after so many months, he was long desensitized to the hatred he had felt for himself at the beginning when it had been the sole reminder that nothing was ever going to be the same again. Now, he was used to the nuances of manoeuvring around objects and people, and the moving was as easy as breathing at this point. It almost felt as if there had never been a time before this. 

But, Jaemin still knew there had been. He would never forget the feeling of standing and walking, the call of the wind rushing by as he ran down a blistering track in the summer heat, or how it felt to be ignored in public because he was just like everyone else. There were too many sensations that could never be replaced, not even in the long-lasting mind of memory, and Jaemin would be damned if he forgot. 

But missing the past and adjusting to his future didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the now and make the most of his life. Jaemin was rather content with being in his chair now, along with the little perks that came with it. Shouldn’t his chair reflect some of himself? He put enough effort into styling his hair and his clothes daily because his outward appearance was important to him, why should his wheelchair be excluded? It was just as much a part of him as his feet were, and he still put shoes on them daily, right? 

Well actually, his feet were useless and his wheelchair wasn’t. 

Bad example. 

He was in the middle of mentally outlining a flame design for a tire cut-out when Renjun’s hands found their way to his hair, gently tipping his head to the side as he worked the hair patches out of Jaemin’s bleached locks. The little plastic spikes tugged a little as they came out, but Renjun’s deft fingers untangled the snags with little difficulty. 

“How does it look?” He asked, voice tired from crying earlier and scratchy from a mixture of relentless sobs and disuse. It sounded awful, nearly as ruined as a smoker’s, and Jaemin couldn’t help the tiny shudder that wracked his body. 

“I can’t tell you, remember?” Renjun hummed before pulling out the rag and letting Jaemin’s hair flip down against his forehead and brush the tops of his ears. It was longer than he usually kept it, but it was still nothing compared to the awful blond mane he had had years ago, new to the world of hair dye and eager to try the most-hyped color. 

Blonde. 

It was a time that no one spoke about. Right along with Renjun’s cherry hair. 

“Hey, I just thought of this, if we turn on our phones, we’ll see our reflections in the glass, won’t we?” Donghyuck interjected, leaning so that Jaemin could see him behind Renjun’s slim frame. “That would ruin the game!” 

“That’s a good point.” Renjun ruffled Jaemin’s hair affectionately before walking over to the counter and gathering up their phones. “I can stick them in the bedroom, face down, and charge them so we don’t touch them for the rest of the night? I’ll leave the ringers on though, in case our parents need us, alright?” 

“Sounds good.” Jaemin managed a tiny, strained smile that slipped off his face as soon as the eldest pattered out into the bedroom with their sole connection to the outside world (not really, if need be, his house had a landline). It was kind of hard to hold on to anything positive without feeling like he was telling a dirty lie. Maybe it was ridiculous to think that everyone expected him to be fine because it couldn’t be further from the truth, but he felt like it was his _job_ to be okay afterwards. Did that even make sense? 

“Doing okay, Jaem?” 

“I guess.” 

Donghyuck eyed him sadly for a second before walking over to give him a hug, kneeling down next to him and rubbing his back while cradling the back of his head sweetly. “It’ll be okay, Nana.” He sunk into Donghyuck’s embrace, even as his brain screamed at him for allowing the comfort. 

_I don’t know if I can believe that._

Jaemin couldn’t think of an appropriately optimistic thing to say back that wouldn’t worry his friend more so he simply didn’t say anything. 

They all showered and washed up afterwards, Renjun and Donghyuck being understanding enough to know that Jaemin didn’t want to share the bathroom while undressed like they had done in the past, instead doubling together without any outward communication at all. It was thoughtful, and it made Jaemin feel a little fuzzy inside before any and all positive emotion was stamped out by the weight of being alone with his thoughts again. 

They were so, so loud, screaming and roaring inside his head with the force of a blizzard, winds whipping him raw as the snow coated him in chill so deep it was numbing. The raging insecurity had returned full force, gleefully building its nest at the heart of the storm, burrowing in deep enough that its claws grated against the very core of Jaemin’s heart. 

Being alone when you were drowning in a sea of your own making was a suffocating, painstaking feeling, and Jaemin found himself gasping for breath as the water started rising, crawling up his throat, splashing against his chin as he clawed at the skin he could reach. Nausea and fear began to build in his chest for reasons he couldn’t explain as Jeno’s name became an unending plea in his brain, a mantra that couldn’t be explained. 

Phantom hands roamed his skin as the room started to flicker in and out of Jaemin’s vision, the boy unable to sit up or move away from the edge of the bed as his body started to shut down from the freezing cold seeping in. The salty taste of the sea started burning in the back of his mouth as Jaemin tried and failed to keep his head above the water, the liquid sloshing around and cutting firy paths down his windpipe. His entire body spasmed wildly as he thrashed around, willing his despondent legs to kick harder as he desperately fought for air, trying to stay afloat among the relentless, raging force of the ocean. 

Jaemin’s vision cut out entirely for a second as the fear inside him reached a fever pitch, the world turning a brilliantly dark shade of purpled black, and he could _feel_ the white spot building in front of him in the back of his skull, pounding and throbbing horrifically. 

_Jeno,_ he screamed, choking on the syllables as water filled his lungs, clogging them up with brackish, seaweed-filled salt water. 

_JENO!_

Jaemin could see the whiteness starting to close in around him as colorless shadows popped in and out of the waves, twining around each other in a sick imitation of what Jeno had looked like in his mind, and the thought was enough to break his focus and still his furiously-working arms. 

Jaemin’s head went under. 

He heard the bathroom door open and shouted voices before the ocean swallowed him up, filling him up from the inside out and dragging him down to its depths as a haunting tune swirled in his ears. 

Jaemin woke up to the scent of Donghyuck’s watermelon shampoo, a tangy and vaguely fruit-like concoction of chemicals that had been a gift from Mark years ago. Usually, the smell didn’t bother him, comforted him, even, but right now all it did was aggravate his pounding headache. He sat up with a groan, hand going to cradle the back of his head, wincing as his fingers connected with sensitive skin, plastered over with wrappings. 

He blinked his eyes open slowly only to be met with two pairs of worried eyes, one of which was right in front of his face, downcast due to the tilt of his head, placing his hair in Jaemin’s direct line of eyesight. Renjun was sitting just a little bit behind Donghyuck, crouched over Jaemin’s legs and peering into his eyes intently. It was a little disconcerting, and Jaemin stared at Donghyuck with a ruffled expression, grumbling quietly as his brain started to wake up again. “What are you doing?” 

“Reviving your brain. Renjunnie says the ammonia in smelling salts is bad for your health so I thought my shampoo might work better.” He plopped back on his haunches and eyed him curiously.

“What, did you like, use a gallon of it and hope it smelled strong enough?” Jaemin quipped, rubbing his eyes and glancing between his two friends’ faces. They were looking at him like he’d just come back from the dead. 

“No, bastard, I just use a lot of it and the scent sticks around for a while! If you’re going to be an ass about it, I can just knock you out again! Then we’ll see how long it takes your judgy ass to recover!” Donghyuck threatened, hands curling into fists as he withdrew and mimed punching at Jaemin’s face. 

He blinked. “Okay…” He glanced at Renjun for help, but his friend was looking away, eyes far away as he gazed out the darkened window. “What even happened?”

Donghyuck snorted but flopped down next to Jaemin, not even bothering to explain before he was hauling him down with him and adjusting their bodies so that Jaemin was the little spoon, his legs tucked up securely behind Jaemin’s, their torsos pressed flush together. _Needy little leech,_ Jaemin grumbled spitefully, even as he happily accepted the cuddles. “You tell us,” Donghyuck grumbled before promptly tucking his face in Jaemin’s neck and cuddling closer. “We walked out of the bathroom and boom, there you were on the floor, sprawled out with your limbs at these awful angles, shaking and twitching while bleeding from a cut on the back of your head. There was blood all over the floor and on the nightstand, but Renjun assured me that head wounds bleed a lot, regardless if they’re serious.” 

He’d passed out and started bleeding? Jaemin started a little, staring at the photograph of his father on his end table as he tried to recall what had happened earlier. He remembered dying their hair, that was why none of their phones were nearby, and he remembered making dinner when Jeno called, but nothing directly struck him as faint-worthy. 

“I was?” Jaemin asked, twisting around a little to look at Donghyuck. The angle was a little too weird though, and all he could really see was the rainbow highlights in his hair along with a dusting of tan skin underneath. 

“You don’t remember?” Renjun turned away from the window, studying him curiously as if Jaemin was nothing more than a lab specimen. The intent look in his eyes had Jaemin wary, shrinking back a little as Renjun moved up the bed to sit closer to them. 

“No? I can’t think of anything I was doing while you two showered.” Renjun’s eyes sharpened. 

“Do you remember anything at all? What major event happened today?” 

Come to think of it, nothing stood out to him about his day. 

“I...read your student council speech?” Jaemin sat up, pushing Donghyuck off his shoulder gently. “I really don’t think that constitutes the use of the word ‘major’ though.” 

“Do you have a headache, Jaem?” 

“Yes? I don’t see how this is relevant.” 

He watched as Renjun and Donghyuck swapped a look before Renjun was standing up and tugging on his shoes. Donghyuck was suddenly in motion as well, throwing off the covers and pulling his hoodie over Jaemin’s borrowed pajama shirt. He slapped on Mark’s ball-cap as an afterthought before standing with his hands on his hips, eyes studying Jaemin as he calculated something. 

“What are you guys doing?” Jaemin inquired as Renjun brought his chair over. “Why are you looking at me like that? Why is Renjun shining a light in my eyes?” He shrunk back from the onslaught of the flashlight, shockingly bright and burning into his retinas. It felt like looking into the sun, maybe because he was tired? 

“Injun and I think you might have a concussion,” Donghyuck explained as Jaemin transferred from the bed to his wheelchair, still dressed in street clothes since he hadn’t made it to the shower yet. “We’re just going to stop by one of the walk-in clinics and get them to take a look at you, okay?” 

“What? A concussion? Why?” Jaemin thought all of this fuss was a little excessive for just bumping his head and bleeding, but maybe they were just worried about him. It wasn’t like they cost much, and his insurance card would cover all of it, even if it turned out to be a fruitless visit. 

“You’ve got all the symptoms—“ 

“—I fail to see how a headache counts as ‘all’—” 

“—And because something important happened today, something crazy, and you can’t remember it.” Donghyuck looked sad for a second before plastering on an obviously fake smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, but we’re just going to check it out, okay?” 

“Yeah, sure.” Jaemin followed Renjun out the door and into the cool night air as Donghyuck kicked the door and locked it behind them. 

While they waited for the doctor to examine Jaemin, Renjun stared down at the glowing chatroom on his phone for a minute, lost in thought. Donghyuck was in the room with Jaemin, pleading cousin-hood, but Renjun was content to stay away from the action. 

He had a decision to make. 

Renjun’s finger hovered over the _send_ button on his screen, green and brilliant but carrying heavy implications if he were to push it. It would be a direct betrayal of Jaemin’s trust to send the message, but if he didn’t, it would be a betrayal of Jeno’s. Asshole or not, he still cared about Jaemin, and he’d want to know if he was injured. 

It was hard to be in the middle of a fight, especially a break-up between friends because, when you had history with both sides, neither one was right or wrong. He could never pick Jaemin over Jeno, not entirely, at least, but he also knew that, from an outside standpoint, Jeno was very much in the wrong. That made any communication with him, on Jaemin’s behalf, a betrayal. But, on the other hand, Jeno was Renjun’s best friend, ever since he transferred. Not telling him about something serious involving the love of his life was _also_ betrayal. 

So, the question was, did Jeno care enough about Jaemin now, after his dirty little secret was laid out on the table, to want to know? 

Renjun sat back against the plastic chair, head lolling back against the wall as he took a deep breath, shoulders shuddering a little. His foot wouldn’t stop tapping, and every time he stamped it down, his leg started trembling. 

Renjun liked to think logically. He prided himself on his brain and on knowing right from wrong. He knew what he wanted in life (to change some aspect of the world), and he knew the ways he wanted to do that and what things he wanted to change. Renjun was a visionary, but a reasonable one, and he always considered the pros and cons of a decision before making it. 

But what was he supposed to do when there was no clear-cut high ground? 

He sighed, shuffling his feet a little as he weighed his options over in his mind. Whether he liked it or not, he knew what he should do. He just hoped it was the right decision. 

_To: Nono Jen_

_Jaemin hit his head on his nightstand earlier today. We think he has a concussion, and we’re to took him to a walk-in clinic. You don’t need to show up, it’s probably better if he doesn’t see you right now._

_[7:43]_

_As for you and I...we’ll talk later, Jeno_

_[7:43]_

Renjun closed his eyes tightly when he turned off the phone, refusing to look at the reflection. A deal was a deal, after all. 

Jeno curled up on the bench across from Seoul’s main walk-in clinic, just a few blocks from Jaemin’s house. He was far away enough that the chances of him being recognized were small, but that meant he wasn’t tucked between the buildings where the natural heat conduction process kept the street warm. Instead, he was under a tree, just a few meters from the strip, straining to see through his glasses and wishing the wind-chill would go away. While the days were steadily getting hotter, the infamous Seoul heat wasn’t a thing at night, and Jeno had forgotten his jacket at Rushi’s house. He’d been too preoccupied by the text from Renjun. 

At student council, the older boy had totally ignored him, even while they discussed aspects of the meeting that required the candidates to talk to the board. It had been a Herculean effort that Jeno admired, but it hadn’t stopped him from feeling like shit. 

Renjun knew. 

Jeno had seen him in the cafeteria with Jaemin, when Rushi had pulled him into a kiss. He’d seen the Mask, the one that Renjun always deployed when one of their friends were upset. It was hard and cruel, unforgiving and made of steel. It had hurt to see directed at himself, but he understood all too well how much he deserved it. 

The thing that had decimated him, however, was the look on Jaemin’s face. It had been the epitome of heartbreak, the literal manifestation of betrayal, and Jeno hadn’t been able to look away. 

Even Rushi’s lips and body against his hadn’t distracted him. 

Jeno had wanted to remember every second of the moment that he broke Na Jaemin. 

The thought made him shudder, and Jeno tucked closer into the bench as the sky opened up and poured, drenching him in freezing rain. It was miserable, but Jeno couldn’t think of a better punishment. 

A tear slipped down his cheek as he watched the distant clinic doors for two teenagers and a broken boy in a wheelchair. 

_I never meant to hurt him like this,_ Jeno thought, rain drops obscuring his vision. _Please, let him be all right._


	24. Chapter 24

Jaemin was first to hear the alarm the next morning, and he silenced it with a groan, feeling his temples kick at him in protest. He was in the middle of attempting to haul his torso to the left to steal more sleep when he bumped into another body next to him. Jaemin nearly shrieked before he took in the caramel bangs with glittering rainbow highlights and matched the newly-dyed hair to a face. 

Ah, right. His friends had stayed the night. 

Donghyuck looked ethereal when he slept, carefree and innocent, and it was honestly the biggest bullshit the universe had ever tried to pull off, in Jaemin’s opinion, because Donghyuck was the biggest, most devious shit their world had ever known. 

The rainbow highlights complimented him well though. 

Very loud, very boisterous, very...gay. 

Mark Lee was so going to hate it. Not that his ramen hair left him any space to judge. 

Sitting up was a little bit of a struggle now that Jaemin had realized he was on the edge of the bed, but he managed okay. It seemed that someone had moved his chair closer to the bed before he went to sleep, and it was close enough that he could get up without waking the others. 

Pulling out his phone confirmed that it had been his first alarm that had gone off and not one of his backup alarms for when he ignored his actual one, and a glance across the bed revealed that Renjun hadn’t woken yet either, undisturbed by the noise and still being spooned by Donghyuck. 

All in all, it felt like a good day. 

Well, save for his pounding head and the way he could feel his blood throbbing against his head wound. 

The doctor at the clinic had been annoyed and not happy to be dealing with teenagers so late, but she had determined that he probably had a concussion, that it was far from serious, and would probably go away shortly. He’d been warned that temporary memory loss, or blockages, might be present until it wore off, but Jaemin wasn’t too worried. Nothing that important had happened recently. He could go a few days without memories of how droll class was. 

Making breakfast was easy, and Jaemin was in the midst of preparing his second coffee when his eomma stumbled into the kitchen with messy hair and bags under her eyes. She had on her typical teaching outfit, a medium length neutral skirt with a black top that was printed to look like it was covered in paint that, in a few hours, would blend in perfectly with the actual paint smeared on by the wandering hands of toddlers. 

She looked normal and happy, if not tired, and Jaemin slid her his intended caffeine booster, laughing when she picked up the ceramic and downed the scalding liquid all at once, not flinching in the slightest. 

“Morning, eomma.” 

“Morning, baby. Are you feeling better? Renjun and Donghyuck told me you guys went to the clinic last night because you bumped your head? If you’d told me earlier, I would’ve come home sooner!” 

“Oh, don’t worry about it, eomma. I’m pretty peachy. The painkiller is dealing with my headache for me!” Jaemin wheeled closer to give her a hug when something caught his eye. He paused, still squeezing Sooyi around the waist, and leaning closer, tilting her head to the side a little. 

“What is that?” Jaemin questioned, reaching up to point at a suspicious discolouration near the juncture between his mum’s neck and shoulder. It was vaguely green-ish blue, bordering on turquoise, and it definitely had no business being on her skin. A brief flash of panic came over him as he imagined someone grabbing his mother around the neck and _squeezing_ , but the mark wasn’t really shaped like fingers and there weren’t any on the other side when he checked. 

Sooyi, however, yelped and tugged away from him as soon as he was done inspecting, and her hands flew up to cover the spot as a flush raised on her cheeks. Jaemin was surprised, and he was about to ask if Junmyeon hurt her or something before realizing what it was. The placing was right, the coloring was right...

“Oh my god, ew, eomma, no, I swear if that’s a hickey!” Jaemin cried, covering his eyes and turning away. “That’s disgusting, oh my god, what if I see Junmyeon-ssi today, ew, what the hell!” The hands around his mum’s neck were quickly replaced by lips and up-styled black hair peeking out of the curvature, and Jaemin wailed, scratching at his temples as if it could make the cursed image go away.

Sooyi quickly regained her composure, frowning at her son and crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t see how it's okay for you to make out with Jeno, but it’s not okay for me to kiss Junmyeon? Don’t think I didn’t know what was going on in the dining room the other day, mister.” 

This time it was Jaemin’s turn to flush, whipping his head around to stare at her. “You knew?!” 

“I’m your mother, I know everything.” Sooyi huffed before straightening out her collar and turning off the stove. When her son didn’t respond, still gaping at her, she rolled her eyes and took the spatula from him to collect the eggs. She tapped him on the forehead with it. “Cheer up, love.” 

Jaemin stayed where he was in abject mortification until Renjun stumbled into the kitchen from the hallway, rubbing his eyes blearily and providing the perfect diversionary tactic. He looked soft and fluffy in an oversized white-and-black striped sweater, a few holes in it that Jaemin couldn’t decide were intentional or the product of wayward scissors.

“Injunnie!” Jaemin cooed, going over to give his tiny friend an affectionate loving, only to be shoved away with a hand to his face and fixed with a murderous glare. No, seriously, Renjun shoved Jaemin hard enough that he skidded and proceeded to pin him in place with the scariest glare he could muster. 

“Don’t touch me, you heathen,” Renjun grumbled, shaking his head to flip his newly-dyed white fringe out of his face. His hand was still digging into Jaemin’s nose, and he pouted at him, blowing kissy faces and wiggling his eyebrow, relishing in the light blush that followed. 

“Good morning, Renjun!” Jaemin’s eomma waltzed by with the food on her way to the table and gave Renjun a squeeze as she passed, and, to Jaemin’s chagrin, she _wasn’t_ shoved away but, instead, embraced. 

“Morning, Mrs. Na.” Renjun smiled beautifically at Jaemin over his mum’s shoulder. Jaemin stuck his tongue out and rolled his eyes. 

“I call favoritism.” 

He was helping set the table while shooting spiteful looks at Renjun when Donghyuck made his fashionably late appearance, yawning before promptly falling over, a sprawl of lanky arms and legs all across the kitchen floor. 

Jaemin blinked at the space where Donghyuck had been before glancing down with an amused expression. “Doing okay, Donghyuck?” 

“No,” he whined, wriggling around on the floor a little but not standing up, “it feels like my hair is screaming!” He pushed his lips out at Jaemin in a way that was supposed to elicit sympathy but really only looked pathetic. 

“I wasn’t aware hair could scream.” 

“I assure you, if mine could, it would.” 

“Delightful.” Jaemin could relate. Bleach was a royal bitch, but it didn’t mean Hyuck was getting his sympathy. 

Breakfast ended up being quite the simple and quiet affair, despite the chaotic banter that had proceeded it, and Jaemin managed to get his beloved idiots out the door in a timely enough fashion that they had to wait on the curb for a few minutes until Kyungsoo pulled up. 

Those few minutes had been filled with side-eyed glances from his friends for reasons that Jaemin couldn’t discern and chatter about their new hair colours that they were now allowed to look at. 

Jaemin had found his own blue hair to be very striking, and he thought the colour just served to highlight his light complexion. The shade was somewhere between sky blue and sea blue, and the result was an electric hairdo that he had thoroughly enjoyed up-sweeping and leaving wet. 

When Kyungsoo arrived, to Jaemin’s utmost surprise, the bus driver didn’t threaten to drive off without Renjun or Donghyuck, nor did he threaten them with the pointy curtain rod that he kept next to his seatbelt. In fact, Kyungsoo actually _smiled_ at them and let them board, not even heckling Jaemin for not moving fast enough when he sat there for a split second in utter shock. 

He continued to be shocked as Kyungsoo gave them all a pack of ramen (who carries instant ramen around like that?), a lollipop, and another gummy smile, brightening his face by miles. The bus driver was actually quite handsome and Jaemin was a transfixed for a few seconds.

“I’m glad you have friends, kid,” Kyungsoo whispered as he buckled Jaemin in. “I was starting to think you didn’t have any,” he continued, patting Jaemin’s thigh before disappearing back to the front of the bus. 

Jaemin blinked after him, dumbfounded. Kyungsoo thought he didn’t have _friends?_ He stared after the bus driver’s back, curious as to what gave him that idea. He supposed he didn’t have friends over in the mornings, and he didn’t ride the bus home most days, so it made sense, but he hadn’t realized the adult had worried about him. 

That was so sweet! 

He made sure to tell him so when Kyungsoo let him go, catching him and hugging him tight before the adult whacked him with his slipper and told him not to be a sentimental fool. Jaemin was still happy though, and the tiny nod Kyungsoo sent him through the rear view mirror, eyebrows drawn as if it physically pained him to do so, made him beam. 

Renjun and Donghyuck looked at him like he’d lost his head. 

Jaemin didn’t care. He was happy today, and nothing was going to change that. 

Apparently he was wrong. 

He was peacefully minding his own business in third period, swapping various looks of exasperation, boredom, and amusement with Felix when he opened his textbook to find a sheet of paper slipped in between the pages. It was just printer paper this time, and it smelled of some old perfume, tangy and citrusy with age, most likely an old flowered mixture that had been all the rage in the eighties. Decorations filled the space with bold, bright colours inked in neon gel pen, forming what looked to be fluorescent signs. Dripping hearts and cacti were interspersed throughout the doodles of devil emojis and rainbows. 

It was honestly kind of peculiar, and Jaemin flipped it open with a baffled smile, fingers tracing over the designs. They were pretty, nonetheless, and when his deskmate, Bomin, wasn’t looking, he read the words inscribed inside the card. 

They were done in the same vaguely cartoon-ish style, and the font had the same air as the previous note that was sitting on the edge of Jaemin’s dresser, burning holes through the wood. And what it said? 

_D.N.Y.L._ , written in pastel pink, followed up by the words, _I don’t need your love_ . _Maybe it’s not gonna work out._

Jaemin stared at it for a few moments, trying to puzzle out what on earth it was trying to tell him. It didn’t look like it was from Jeno because why wouldn’t he sign his name? But there was no one other than Jeno to say that they were over because Jaemin hadn’t dated anyone else. Besides, they were still together, weren’t they? 

Who could it be?

Jaemin was on the verge of throwing caution to the wind and digging out his phone to shoot a quick text to Renjun when the memories started rushing back in. 

His headache had long since dissipated but the revelation brought a new kind of ache as the new information replaced the gaps in his memory that no one seemed to want to tell him anything about, save for the fact that they were _there_. It explained the tentative looks Renjun and Donghyuck had given him, hidden behind the carefree facade of harmless banter when they didn’t think he was paying attention. 

Jeno had cheated. 

How had Jaemin forgotten? 

Damn. If this was what minor head trauma could do, he couldn’t imagine the effects of a serious injury. 

His ex-boyfriend...somehow that just didn’t sound right when applied to Jeno. Jaemin managed to stay calm as the gaps were filled with memories akin to big, writhing tangles of snakes, undesirable, terrifying, and decidedly unpleasant. Really, he thought he was doing a spectacular job of not thinking too hard about it, and Jaemin resolved to keep it that way, at least temporarily. It was hard to have a proper emotional breakdown without judgement when one was present at school, sitting in English class with extremely kind classmates who would send him pitying looks that would only serve to worsen the problem.

Aw shit, now Jaemin was thinking about it, and tears for some emotion he had long stopped trying to identify were starting to make themselves known. 

Was it so much to ask for to just be happy for a little while? Maybe he should take his chances by slamming his English textbook on his head. It was definitely hefty enough to do some damage...

Jaemin huffed a sigh as he tucked the note into his pocket to look at further, later. It was a _ton_ harder than it looked to get over people. How was it that the people in movies just sat down with a gallon of beer, drank it away, and it was like the feelings never happened? Then, when the main character saw them again later in the film, they go to sock them in the jaw for being jackasses. Jaemin wanted to do that! 

Well...he didn’t want to drink his feelings away. Alcohol was a bad coping method.

And...well...he didn’t want to punch Jeno either. 

Maybe this was why he couldn’t get over Jeno the way that actors did. He was unwilling to do what it took. 

Apparently. 

Also, it had only been a day. Things like this took time. At least, that’s what the internet said. 

Hey, he was doing pretty good now! Apparently, temporary amnesia and post-break-up emotional breakdowns went well together! Who would have thought?

Someone said his name, and Jaemin whipped his head up to look for the source, heat creeping up his cheeks when he realized it was his teacher who had caught him definitely _not_ paying attention. 

“Can you read where Changbin left off please?”

Jaemin paled, even as his blush deepened. “I-uh.” He swiped at his eyes inconspicuously and scratched at the side of his head nervously, scanning the page for any of the words he remembered hearing a few seconds ago. It was kind of hard to do when you weren’t listening at all. 

“That’s what I thought. Pay attention, Na Jaemin. You’ll read next. Felix?”

Jaemin’s friend continued reading from where his crush had left off as Jaemin scrambled to flip through the ten pages he had spaced out through. It was embarrassingly difficult to find the passage of War and Peace that Felix was reading from, even as his friend read deliberately slower so Jaemin could catch up. There were a _ton_ of words on each page, and Jaemin had been distracted! 

It also didn’t help that they were reading in a Reader’s Theatre, meaning that each person tasked with reading had to read the dialogue with the air of a play, acting out the characters through the text. Jaemin hated Reader’s Theatre, not because of the acting but because _you had to pay total attention._ He was atrocious at paying attention in English class, if that wasn’t obvious already. 

Luckily, he found it right as Felix finished up, sending him a wide-eyed look, and Jaemin rushed to continue where he had left off. 

“‘I know your heart...I value your friendship and wish you to have as good an opinion of me. Don’t upset yourself…’”

Jaemin packed up his stuff after school as quickly as possible, jamming things into his bag as he rushed to get out the door. The train that he needed to catch for physical therapy arrived about thirty-five minutes after school got out, but the nearest station was about thirty away. If he wanted to make it, he had to _hustle._

Shoving his English textbook with the note in it into his backpack, Jaemin bustled out the door, ignoring whatever shout came behind him. His mother had consulted their insurance for hours and heckled with them to find out if Jaemin’s treatment was covered. In the end, she either wore them down enough that they gave in , or it was actually included, but they had found someone else to pay for the therapy so Jaemin was going. 

It made Jaemin happy. Not only because it was a chance at improving his health, but also because he’d miss Jungwoo once he stopped seeing him. The therapist, while also acting as excellent eye-candy, was sweet and caring, and Jaemin found his personality fun and refreshing. Maybe when it was all over, walking or not, Jaemin would go visit him from time to time. Was it against the rules to give your ex-therapist flowers? Were there even rules for ex-therapy patients? 

He made it to the metro with five minutes to spare, and Jaemin took the time to wish Renjun luck with his student council meeting and respond to the Michael Jackson gif Donghyuck had sent him. His eyes lingered on the unread text message notifications from Jeno before he closed the app with a sigh. He wasn’t going to think about his ex-boyfriend right now. 

Getting on the train was easier this time as there was an actual ramp on this one, although Jaemin did have trouble finding somewhere to park properly. He was looking around for either the belts or a docking station when he noticed the lights at the top of the train, pointing arrows towards handicap ‘parking’. Jaemin wheeled his way through the people carefully, smiling and nodding and thanking everyone who moved for him, trying not to squish any toes. When he got there, though, there was another challenge: people were standing in the docking stations. Jaemin sighed internally before putting on his best dealing-with-people face and tapping the man nearest to him’s shoulder. 

“Hi, excuse me,” Jaemin said. “Is there any chance you could move please? I need to dock my wheelchair.” 

The man turned to look at him. “What?” He looked annoyed, as if Jaemin had personally offended him. 

“I need to get back here? The train can’t go anywhere until I’m docked, and I really don’t want to hold anyone up.” If Jaemin could tap his foot, it would be right now. A glance at his watch confirmed that he had twenty minutes to get to Jungwoo’s, ten of which would be eaten up by the ride. “I’d appreciate it if you could move please? I think I saw some seats up near the doors.” He gestured towards them vaguely and forced his smile a little wider. 

“Why do I need to move? Can’t you hold on like the rest of us?” The guys behind him moved to stare at him too, all with varying levels of hostility.

Jaemin’s smile tightened a little at the corners. “It’s really not safe for me to be sliding around the main train. My brakes only work so well, and because it goes so fast, I could get really hurt if I’m not tucked up by the walls. This station just happens to be the safest spot.” 

The man looked unimpressed, and he was opening his mouth to say something when the operator came over the speaker system. “Everyone, please take your seats, we need every passenger secure or holding on to the rails before we can pull out.” 

Jaemin raised his eyebrows at the man. He wasn’t going to say anything when his expression could say enough. The man’s jaw tightened as he grabbed his friends and pulled them with him.

“You damn cripples causing trouble everywhere, thinking you’re so special,” he muttered under his breath as he shoved past Jaemin. 

Jaemin settled into the dock, locking his brakes and grabbing the seatbelt, resolving to ignore the tingling feeling of eyes on him. He hadn’t done anything wrong, there wasn’t anything wrong with him, and it _was_ his right to sit where he was. The man could be upset all he wanted, but the sign on the platform clearly said that it was reserved for handicapped passengers. That didn’t stop the murmurs that were still spreading throughout the train, however, and Jaemin reached for his headphones and turned on SHINee’s music, hoping the ten minutes would pass faster than ever. 

His mind wandered back to the note in his bag, made of paper yet weighing so heavily on his soul, and sighed again, even as the dance break hit in his song. His heart honestly felt shielded at this point, just a day was enough to build a wall around it. He was going to surround it in a fortress of ice so he could never get hurt again, never be betrayed again. 

Jaemin was going to heal and never look back. 

But not even Lucifer was enough to erase the pair of crescent eyes from his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone was wondering, these would be their hair: [Donghyuck](https://66.media.tumblr.com/0bdebb800fc63f7772f5ab29e84c2a5e/bd3df377ea31891d-6b/s1280x1920/7dd3594e837d25b1f30d006000728f87a97e9f37.jpg), [Jaemin](https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn%3AANd9GcSOhJth8p6e-IYUAxx2Afbq6IJBV2WaGlZeuOQsiIAMG64Ub1BS&usqp=CAU), [Renjun](https://i1.wp.com/66.media.tumblr.com/c23966127ce2e2e89f34a057d1ee37a8/16d1d8efd3d489b2-cf/s400x600/7145ce5ac29d45fc74e6ce954e2bf8c95993c09e.gif?w=817&ssl=1)
> 
> I just couldn't get over Reload's hair and styling, but also because we needed a change-up anyway~ (Donghyuck gets his We Go Up hair because I just love it too much uwu) 
> 
> Thank you all for reading~ Take good care of yourselves <3


	25. Chapter 25

The ride up to Jungwoo’s office was slow but not boring. Jaemin was enjoying watching the bustle all around him through the glass of the lift, humming along to the tune playing across the speakers. He’d hung up his earphones, and he was glad he had because the song was catchy, something about elevators and ‘one more time’. It was addictive; he’d have to check out the group once he got home. 

It made him think about jamming to songs in the locker room with Mark before basketball games, where Jaemin technically wasn’t allowed to be, in order to get the eldest to calm down. They’d analyze raps and pick apart the melodies in songs they found in “best kpop” compilations until the nervous sweat stopped pouring off Mark, and he’d start freestyling among the nasty jerseys and deflated balls. It was such a random thought that it made Jaemin smile. 

The lift pinged on the sixth floor, and Jaemin was startled into motion when the doors started closing on him, just seconds after arrival. He scrambled to reach the motion sensors before they closed shut, and in a panic, he thrust his head forward to stop it. Jaemin braced himself for a quick death, his brain getting turned to jelly inside his head, something awful and painful and very pathetic. 

It wasn’t the best idea by a long shot, but it had worked, the cool glass just brushing the sides of his head before reopening, and Jaemin breathed out a little too quickly, nervous laughter building in his throat.  _ This,  _ he chuckled as he disembarked,  _ this is why Renjun thinks you’re a lunatic.  _

Jaemin was dutifully recounting his week to Jungwoo as they prepped for an experimental trial, something that involved Jaemin sitting with his shirt off and thanking the powers that be for one-way glass while Jungwoo buzzed around him, plastering things to his back and adjusting a support structure in front of him. 

“And yeah, so I guess Jeno and I are over now.” Jaemin was distracted and hastily clutched for his shirt when a doctor paused outside the door for a little too long before moving on. He didn’t care how much muscle tone he had, it was a little awkward to be sitting shirtless in a room while the only other person was still clothed. 

“You should cut his dick off,” Jungwoo announced conversationally as if they were talking about sports and not assaulting his ex-boyfriend. “That’s what my friend told me to do when Doyoungie and I were feuding.” He gently pushed Jaemin’s hands off his shirt and continued humming. 

Jaemin sputtered, totally at loss for words as Jungwoo continued to smile at him like an innocent cherub while he adjusted Jaemin’s harness and placed his hands on the metal bars in front of him. They were layered at different heights, and the platform that Jaemin was parked on was designed to roll left and right, depending on the bar he was supposed to reach for. 

“Who was your  _ friend?  _ Did you do it?? And did you seriously just suggest I castrate my ex-boyfriend for cheating on me?” Not that the thought wasn’t the tiniest bit appealing but. 

“His name was Yuta, no, but I thought about it, and it’s more mutilation than castration. It solves the larger issue. You can’t be infidel without the parts!” Jungwoo beamed at him, and Jaemin was seriously reconsidering the pure boy image his doctor had been putting off. He was wild! 

The therapist bustled around the room doing various things and inspecting gauges before handing Jaemin a small and sleek metal box with a few buttons and toggles on it. It had tiny graphics printed onto the buttons, both a lightning bolt and a stop sign decorating the plastic, while the toggles had simple up and down arrows on the plating next to them. It looked like any other children’s toy, save for the wires winding out of it and attaching to the plaster on his back. He was honestly both intrigued and frightened by Jungwoo’s new idea of therapy. 

Jaemin shook his head out, tucking Jungwoo’s unusually feisty personality to the back of his brain as he studied the controller, passing it from hand to hand. “So...what does this do, Jungwoo-Hyung?” 

Jungwoo clapped his hands together like a seal for a moment, perking up considerably before he stepped off Jaemin’s platform and beamed. “That, there, is an electromagnetic controller! When you hit the lightning button, it will send an electric pulse through the plaster and into the nerves surrounding your spinal cord.” 

“Won’t that hurt?” Jaemin didn’t fancy being electrocuted...first the lift, now electrical currents? Was this the world telling him it was his time to go? 

“Oh, no! The current is just enough to stimulate them into believing your brain is the one firing the commands to move. If this goes right, you should be able to stand up the same moment you trigger the pulse.” 

_ Oh, that’s a relief.  _

“Huh.” Jaemin eyed the controller with a new sense of admiration. This tiny, unassuming toy could be the secret to getting him moving again? Technology truly was amazing!

“Well, are you going to try it?” Jungwoo looked eager, although, from the way he was spreading pillows around Jaemin’s feet, it didn’t seem he was very confident in Jaemin’s ability to maintain his upright status. 

Jaemin eyed the metal bars in front of him, a few inches from his face sitting, but they would be at a perfect resting height if he was standing. They looked pretty solid and  _ very painful  _ if he happened to lose his grip and fall forward instead of back into his chair. 

“Are you not going to pad the bars too?” 

“Nope!” The crooked glasses and wild expression in Jungwoo’s eyes did little to reassure Jaemin. 

“And you said this is going to work?” 

“Well, we’ll never know if you don’t  _ get on with it! _ ” 

Jaemin made an unflattering face at him before shifting the remote into his right hand as he gripped the bar with his left. In five seconds, he could be standing up of his own violation. Jaemin closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, and pressed the button. 

He waited with baited breath for a second as he thought,  _ stand,  _ with all his might. He imagined how it felt before to just  _ move  _ when he wanted to and told his brain to propel his body forward on working knees. 

Nothing happened. 

“Dammit!” Jaemin punched the rail of the platform as Jungwoo frowned. 

“Hey, don’t give up yet, Jaemin,” he gently admonished, getting him to lean forward to check the wiring taped to his back. “Everything seems to be working back here so let’s try it again. Don’t think too hard, just feel.” 

Jaemin ran the trial again, and he did feel the current in his back this time, tingling at the base of his spine where it met his tailbone, an area that was usually numb (probably the only reason he could sit for so long now), but that didn’t do much in terms of mobility. It was easy to feel like he’d failed. 

Jaemin and Jungwoo went at it again and again, increasing and decreasing the current at different intervals, changing his mindset, his view, even the  _ music _ playing in the office in an attempt to trigger some kind of psychological reaction, to no avail. They experimented with ice and heat packs, blindfolds, talking until everything he was saying was total nonsense, only there to fill the silence and keep his brain moving. 

It was exhausting to fail. 

After an hour, they gave up, out of time and mentally and emotionally spent. Jungwoo had shed his coat and outer sweater, the heat in the room far too hot to bear, and his glasses were hanging off his collar, crooked and bent. His hair was disheveled from running frustrated hands through it too often, and if his doctor looked defeated, Jaemin could only imagine how he himself looked. He could feel the sweat dripping down the back of his neck, pooling against the plaster at the base of his spine, and the sensation was mildly tickling, even as the heat swelled in his veins. The air con was starting to kick back on, but as far as Jaemin was concerned, it couldn’t turn on any slower than it already was. 

His palms were raw from gripping at the cross-sections of the bars, where the metal fed into each other, like pvc pipes stuck together as if in a puzzle, and harsh lines were indented into the skin. If he flexed them at all, he could feel the skin pulling along the imprints. And as for his legs? They sat looking useless and long, pale under the fluorescent lighting, contrasting his navy gym shorts. 

It was shaping out to be a pretty fruitless day, indeed. 

He redressed himself in the office and declined Jungwoo’s offer for a shower before taking his leave, bidding the therapist goodbye and promising to be back next week for a new trial Jungwoo was equally optimistic about. Jaemin wheeled himself out the doors, unable to shake the feeling that he had lost something vital inside. 

The ride home was significantly less eventful than the previous, and Jaemin had been content to lose himself in the mindlessness of daydreaming, thinking of nothing and everything all at once. Vague shapes of ideas and people took form in his mind but nothing concrete came out of them, just colours and swirls of texture while voices and melodies swirled around in intangible agglomerations of sound. It was peaceful in an arbitrary way, and Jaemin brought himself back into the world of the living when the train announced the last stop of the line. 

It felt like waking up from a beautiful dream only to be cast into an unfortunate predicament: Jaemin was supposed to have gotten off six stops ago. He was in the midst of panicking about the development when someone just came up behind him and started pushing him off the train and through the station, with no regard whatsoever to his own wishes of where he wanted to go. 

They were moving him quite quickly, bustling past the other passengers and heading towards another platform. Whipping around frantically, Jaemin managed to identify the station as Gunja, meaning he was all the way out in Gwanjin-gu, about fifty minutes from his home. Location determined, Jaemin could relax enough to focus on the other issue at hand. 

Jaemin whirled around to stare at the person, glaring and mouth open to start shouting at them. “What the hell, lady!?” He shrieked, smacking at the hands on his handles to no avail. Her fingers were neatly manicured, and the nail polish was a crisp ruby red, nails buffed to perfection. They looked nothing like the hands of a kidnapper, yet that was exactly what she was doing.“What do you think you’re doing? I don’t need help!” He struggled to lock the brakes on his chair, and when he did, the momentum nearly propelled him out of it. 

She glanced down at him condescendingly. “You weren’t moving and it was time to go so I moved you myself.” Her voice was high pitched and squeaky, dripping in disdain. 

“You can’t just pick up an able-bodied person and carry them away without being arrested for kidnapping,” Jaemin gritted out, pushing her hands off of him and turning around to face her with a scathing look, “what makes you think it’s any different with me?” 

“You should be grateful for my help,” she sniffed, flicking a lock of dark hair off her shoulder and hefting her purse up to cover her torso. “I was getting you somewhere faster than you could have got there.” 

“That doesn’t matter!” Jaemin cried, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “If I picked you up and carried you to the stairs over there ‘faster’ than you could have walked, I would have been attacked by half the people in this station for assault! Just because I’m a wheelchair user, you think that same concept doesn’t apply?” People around the station were starting to look at them curiously as their voices rose and Jaemin got more animated. Normally, he would feel bashful under all the attention, but this time he had a point to make! 

“Do you think you’re entitled to special treatment just because you’re crippled?” Her face was stony. 

Jaemin bit back the sassy retort, swallowing it down in favor of protesting, “It’s my body!” 

“You were causing problems and getting in the way.” She was entirely unrelenting. 

“How?” He shrieked, voice raising. “How was I ‘causing problems’ by sitting on my platform and staying out of everyone’s way? I was literally daydreaming! I heard the announcement, and I would have moved on my own time, you can’t just do that!” 

“I am not going to let a child tell me what I can and cannot do. Be grateful I even wanted to help someone as pathetic as you.” And with that, she turned on her heel and stalked away, heels clicking against the concrete. Jaemin watched her go with a baffled expression, upset and outrage simmering under his skin. 

He’d heard stories of disabled people having problems with others trying to ‘help’ by moving them without consent or being judged in public for not ‘being normal’, but he’d never experienced the former in person, not really. The boys in the cafeteria that had assaulting him ages ago, yes, but it was not under the guise of aiding him. It was just cruel. But no, this lady was crossing a different lie, a line that  _ also  _ shouldn’t have been crossed. 

If you were going to move a handicapped person as an outsider with no underlying agreement or conditions laid out, you were supposed to ask for their permission. Anything else was assault, battery, or even kidnapping and could be sued for accordingly. Not that Jaemin would be suing anyone. Ignorance wasn’t a crime, and he hadn’t been moved anywhere dangerous, per say, so it was relatively harmless, but the issue at hand did demand attention. 

Wheelchair users were not people or pawns that needed help for everything. Most were self-sufficient and the ones who weren’t could ask for help if they wanted or needed it. A metal chair was not an immediate and universal cry for help, and Jaemin wished some people could understand that. He’d seen so many things in online communities filled with people like him about the pity and stigma, and those same experiences and blogs had been what saved him from falling into the rabbit hole. 

He owed the community and himself to stand up for himself. 

Despite it all, Jaemin decided to let her go quietly, watching until she disappeared into the bustling crowd of a newly arrived train. He hoped his lecture could change her mind in the future, even if it didn’t seem likely. That was all he could do, educate, and hope it made a difference. 

Suddenly, he felt very small, sitting in the middle of Gunja-dong Station, lost, disrespected, and clutching his phone and backpack to his chest, nursing a broken heart. Jaemin was a cliche if he ever saw one. The thought did little to ease his mind as he set off in pursuit of the train to take him home. 

By the time he got home, it was dark outside, the electric lights along the street already illuminating the quiet streets. Jaemin could see some families eating dinner at their tables through open windows as he passed, and it made him ache a little bit for the times long past, when his father was still around and dinner was always a familial affair. 

Unlocking the door and dumping his backpack on his bed just confirmed what had been pretty standard as of late: his mum had already gone off to work, a goodnight note and  _ I love you  _ taped to his lamp, and Jaemin was alone for dinner once again. He’d been enjoying her company recently as work thinned out, but it was never meant to last anyway. The unsuccessful therapy and subway escapades hadn’t made his day much better, and Jaemin was too unmotivated to make a decent dinner, instead heating up some old leftovers that he hoped weren’t old enough to be poisonous. He settled for lounging on his bed, a gloomy expression plastered to his face as he tried and failed to be amused by the drama Donghyuck had recommended to him, slurping up his noodles sullenly. 

_ This is my life now,  _ he mused as the heroine chased after her (future) love interest on the screen,  _ eating stale leftovers and crying over television romances.  _ The drama had since gotten more interesting since the last time he’d zoned out, but the romance was far too cliche to be entertaining for long. Jaemin was pretty sure he had it figured out: the girl would break up with her boyfriend in favor of the cool best friend who was always there for her, who clearly crushing on her already, and the boyfriend would strive to be better for a while before it became abundantly clear that he could never match up to the best friend. 

Really, it was child’s play. Anyone could see the cliche waiting to happen. 

Rain started beating down against the roof and walls, swaying his house just a little as the natural white noise filled the room, drowning out the drama enough that Jaemin had to turn it up. He had found himself focusing on the subplot foreshadowing he’d predicted more so than the main action of the screen, noticing little items in the background or twitches of eyes that conveyed more than actual words. It became increasingly more fun to pick apart the hidden clues, and he was beginning to understand why Donghyuck had recommended it. He was in the middle of episode 17 when he realized that the more attention he paid to the movie and less to his noodles, the more he started to notice some striking similarities between the plot and his real life. 

For one, the girl’s actual boyfriend was disappearing more and more as time went on, leaving flimsy excuses for why he couldn’t go to her games (she played football) if he even explained it at all. This led to the lead female character starting to doubt herself and her own worth as her self-proclaimed ‘better half’ seemed to never have time for her. In turn, the male best friend would step in every time she was down and comfort her or make her laugh enough to forget about the terrible boyfriend while their on-screen chemistry reached all-time high levels. And for two, the boyfriend was always with someone walking down the hall when he wasn’t with her, or talking with someone when she tried to confront him about his odd behavior. The girl he was usually with was attractive with long, glossy hair spun from ebony and milky pale skin that contrasted the lead female’s short, curly bob of dark brown hair and sun-kissed skin. And they were almost  _ always  _ laughing when the lead caught them together. 

Jaemin was starting to feel kind of sick. It was obvious what was about to happen in the drama, and the plotline struck way too close to home. Watching the hurt and confusion in the lead just made his own heart ache again for his own relationship, all of the warning signs that he brushed off too easily. The noodles he’d just eaten felt like stones in his stomach, weighing him down, and Jaemin felt his brain start to slip into the self-doubt and angst that he’d been struggling with for a few days. 

The weird looks on the subway creeped back into his mental vision, filming over his actual as his yells at the woman abducting him to stop and that he had rights just the same as she did filled his ears. The little shocks from Jungwoo’s box, tickling at his spine enough for him to register them but not enough for his brain to cooperate. The filthy feeling he had leaving the clinic, failure weighing heavily on his useless limbs. He didn’t even flinch when a tear rolled straight into his ear from the slope of his cheek. 

Was he really that abnormal to be paralyzed as a teen? Yes, the way he’d come about it was fairly unusual, but not unheard of. Since when did being in a wheelchair give you express privileges that abled people would be jealous of? As far as he could tell, the only thing he really got away with was getting to go to class a few minutes late, and even then, there was a window he had to make it in. It wasn’t indefinite. Wasn’t the handicapped platform on trains his right? Jaemin’s musings were rather all-consuming as he struggled to breathe evenly, sinking into his rabbit hole of high expectations dashed by cruel circumstances that he’d strived so desperately to avoid. 

He had just reached for his phone as the voices in his head started to get loud, twisting it between his fingers as he debated calling Donghyuck or Renjun for help. He knew they’d come for him with zero hesitation and with no questions asked, but Jaemin felt like a major burden just thinking about bothering them for what must be the billionth time. 

He was already dialing Donghyuck when someone knocked on the door, loud and hard, the metal of their door knocker clacking against the wood. They’d put it there because the doorbell didn’t work and hadn’t for years, but Jaemin had always thought that the knocker was more likely to induce a heart attack. Startled, Jaemin hit cancel and yelled, “I’m coming!” before hauling himself off the bed and into his chair. 

_ Who could be bothering me this late?  _

Jaemin paused at the front door, angling his head to the side to see who was standing on his doorstep, flattening his hair and drying his eyes as he looked. He couldn’t see too much of the person as their face was in shadow, both because they were out of the light and because it was pouring rain, but their build was obviously masculine, tall and relatively broad-shouldered. Probably not the type of person you let into your house without knowing them at seven o’clock at night. 

Jaemin unlocked the door experimentally, leaving the chain and bars on, letting the sound click audibly, and watched his visitor, seeing if they’d move at all. When they did, shifting into the light, Jaemin let out a gasp before ripping off their safety chain and whipping the door open. 

“What are  _ you _ doing here?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, Jungwoo’s therapy is totally legit! We’ll learn more about it later, but it’s not total medical bullshit (I’m not a doctor~)! And any idea who is visiting him? :p 
> 
> PS. Take good care, everyone <3


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I...I feel kinda bad now...

Standing on his doorstep was an entire Park Jisung, looking utterly bedraggled and drenched from the rain, hair dripping water into his eyes and shivering from the cold. Black streaks were sliding down his cheeks, probably from hair dye since the last time Jaemin had seen him he’d been blond. His cheeks were puffed out as if Jaemin’s question had personally offended him, but his eyes were bright as he held out a box of pizza and shrugged his shoulder to show Jaemin the duffel bag hauled over it. 

“I came to visit!” He chirped, gesturing to his things before a particularly harsh shudder went through him as the rain picked up. “I thought you might be lonely and craving some company!” Jisung paused for a second, lips pursing in thought before continuing, “Although if you don’t want me here, I’d understand. Am I interrupting something? I can go!” 

Jaemin shook out his head to clear it, a habit of his, before focusing on what was going on in front of him. “Oh my god, no, you can stay here, Jisung!” He rushed to tell him, moving to the side so the younger boy could come in. “I was just….surprised to see you, was all. I don’t mind company at all, right now!” _In fact, I needed it._ Jaemin’s smile was genuine, not strained in the slightest, as he commanded Jisung to stay put while he went to find a set of dry clothes for him to wear before he shivered to death. 

Once he was in his room, Jaemin paused against the wall to rest his head on it, hand bracing against the drywall as he took a shuddering breath, body trembling as his lungs worked overtime to breathe normally. The emotional dump he’d been having was relieved by Jisung’s appearance, but it took a little before the physical symptoms faded. 

His day was shaping up to be quite the interesting one. Temporary amnesia, fun concussions, mysterious notes, crazy people on the subway—not that that was abnormal in Seoul—, failed prospective therapy, introspective dramas, and now bedraggled teenagers standing forlornly on his front step! Jaemin was starting to feel like a character in a novel! 

Still, oddness aside, Jaemin scanned his closet, looking for something that would fit Jisung’s gangly form that was just the slightest bit taller than his own. He wanted something warm and comfy to show the youngest how much he appreciated the spontaneous visit and just how much it meant to him. Because it _did_ mean a lot. Jaemin hadn’t been too close with either of the youngest, nor did he know Jisung _that_ well, but the gesture was sweet, and it would stay in his mind for a long time. 

He decided upon a t-shirt that was two sizes too large for himself (good insulation) and a pair of fluffy sweatpants (‘cause why not?), grabbing a hoodie as an afterthought before heading back out to the foyer to give them to Jisung. 

The youngest was standing awkwardly in the middle of the mat, perfectly still as he tried to contain all of the excess water to the tiny little square that was barely as broad as he was. The streaks had made their way down his neck, staining the white collar of his t-shirt, but Jisung didn’t seem to mind as he balanced everything in his hands and shuffled his feet around. The effort was sweet, and Jaemin found himself cooing a little bit as he handed Jisung a couple towels and the clothes. 

“Do you want a hot shower?” He offered, laughing kindly when Jisung eyed the clothes with confusion, looking between the multitude of items in his arms and the dry textiles. “Here, I’ll take those, the shower’s this way.” 

Jaemin took the pizza box and went to set it in the kitchen before returning back to the foyer to lead Jisung, who still hadn’t moved yet. “What’s wrong?” A tinge of worry snuck into his voice, was Jisung regretting coming over? 

“I mean, won’t the water get all over your floor?” Jisung scrunched up his nose, scratching at his head with his free hand, still holding the clothes out far away from his body. 

Jaemin chuckled. He was _so cute!_ Maybe Jaemin could adopt him as his own like Renjun had with Chenle? He liked children...he wanted to adopt as many as possible! “Don’t worry about the floor, Jisung-ah. I can mop it up later. Now, come on, I don’t want you to get a cold.” Jisung looked skeptical but followed Jaemin back to his bedroom and to the bathroom, padding into the shower with little encouragement. 

“Left is cold, right is hot, ignore the actual label, it’s wrong!” Jaemin called through the door as the water started running. An affirmative shout followed, and, satisfied, Jaemin wheeled away, going back to plop back into his bed. He made it about halfway there before his hands on his wheels got a bit wet and he remembered the trail of water from the front door to his bedroom. _Right._

Mopping up the water was pretty easy, mostly because Jaemin had already learned how to work most of the cleaning supplies from his wheelchair (the vacuum was still _by far_ the worst). The mop they had also had a pivot joint thing at the base that made the actual head swing around easier, so that was helpful. All in all, it was pretty easy and very therapeutic, and Jaemin was in the midst of considering becoming a housewife in the future (cooking, cleaning, he couldn’t bear children, but _cooking and cleaning...)_ when Jisung emerged from the shower, hair still wet but towelled to a moderate state of dryness, swaddled in Jaemin’s fluffy clothes. He looked cute, and Jaemin swallowed the urge to pinch his cheeks. 

Was he sick? Usually cute dongsaengs weren’t _this_ cute. Maybe it was just a Jisung thing. That must be it. 

“So…” Jisung trailed, looking expectantly at Jaemin like he was supposed to know what to do next. 

Jaemin raised an eyebrow at him, smiling as he stuck the mop back into the bucket. “So?”

“What do you want to do?” 

“What do _you_ want to do?” Jaemin countered, smiling at Jisung and widening it when the other boy blushed, shuffling his feet as he stared at the floor. Oh, it was official. Jisung was going to be his child and Jaemin was going to love him to death. 

“I brought games and crafts?” 

“Sounds good, lead the way, Jisung-ah!” 

As it was, Jisung had brought star paper with him with the intent of teaching Jaemin how to make them, explaining that Chenle had taught him how to make them recently and that he was fascinated by them. They were tiny little origami stars, made from long strips of coloured paper, and they were formed by tying careful knots out of the paper before simply folding the rest around each edge of the hexagon accordingly. Once you were done with the flat form, you simply pinched at the edges gently to puff up the star and sharpen the corners. 

Okay, so maybe it was a _little_ bit harder than it sounded, but after about seven mistakes, Jaemin thought he finally had a hand at making the little decorations. The knot was honestly the hardest part, and some of his stars were either a little flat-looking or lopsided, but it was fun to spend time chatting idly with Jisung. 

They talked about all kinds of things. Jaemin learned that Jisung had express interest in writing and was even working on his own novel as well as wanting to play for the school’s football team but not having time. The younger was an avid dancer as well, and even attended a high-level dance academy after school on a scholarship of sorts. In turn, Jaemin had told him about his love of running along with cooking and all about his escapades with Renjun, Jeno, and Donghyuck when they were smaller than they were now. 

It was comfortable and easy, and any silence that descended upon the conversation wasn’t awkward or stifling but rather calm and simply _present._ The whole atmosphere was a level of ease that Jaemin hadn’t felt with someone other than his close friends in forever, and even less so recently. 

_It’s nice,_ he decided, propping his head up on his hand as Jisung rummaged around in his duffel bag for their next activity. When the other boy pulled out a bag of candy and said to trust him, Jaemin was kind of curious but ultimately agreed. 

The actual candies weren’t bad. When Jisung pulled out a roll of what looked like tape, Jaemin was pretty suspicious, but it just ended up being rice paper wrap that was rather tasty. Other than that, he also liked the ume plum candy that Jisung said Chenle got from Japan, and of course, white rabbit and whistle candies. Actually, the whistles were in contention with his beloved jellies and chocolate for his favorite because they were fun and annoying, and Jaemin was already imagining all the things he could do to get under Renjun’s skin with a packet of the discs in his pocket. 

Gradually, the sweets and pizza disappeared and were replaced by stars and wrappers as the two boys plowed through the food and practiced their skills. By the time they were done, the conversation fizzled out into half-formed amalgamations of thought, Jaemin decided it was time for them to get going. 

“Jisung-ah,” he prompted, poking the younger boy who was sprawled face-down across the tabletop, “it’s time for you to go home.” 

“I don’t wanna,” Jisung whined, peeking out at Jaemin through his eyelashes and from under his fringe. “Don’t make me go home now!” 

“It’s late, Jisungie. I don’t want your parents to worry too much. It’s nearly midnight!” He shook the younger a little to get him to pick himself up off the table. 

“That’s why you shouldn’t make me go home alone. It’s late and I’m young. Someone could kidnap me!” Jisung’s voice faded out a little at the end, something akin to fear sliding into his eyes. He looked like a cute little kitten hiding behind the shoes during a thunderstorm, and Jaemin’s heart melted instantly. 

Jaemin sighed in mock exasperation, even as he smiled at Jisung. To be honest, he _had_ forgotten about that. It definitely wasn’t a good idea to send him home on the underground this late, even if he was technically male and tall, Jisung was still a beanpole and a baby. Jaemin’s bed was big enough to fit Jisung, he knew, but he didn’t know the younger’s opinion on sharing beds.

“Yeah that’s true. I can’t send you home this late, not in good conscience. Do your parents know you’re staying with me? And how do you feel about sharing a bed?” 

Jisung just squealed before rushing off to the foyer to retrieve his phone, all traces of lethargy gone as he dialed his parents numbers and started speaking in his usual excitable, rapid Korean. Little cute sounds filtered through the air as Jisung got more and more animated on the phone. 

Jaemin smiled as he cleaned up the remnants of the pizza and snacks, looking at the collection of multicolored stars all across the table. They were all small enough that they could fit into some of the spare glass bottles he had in his room, and he resolved to find them and fill them for both of them as a momento for their wonderful night. 

He was halfway done with the second bottle when Jisung came into his room, knocking on the doorframe first before entering. 

“Hey.” Jaemin greeted him warmly, feeling his lips pull up in a smile that came unbidden, soft and careless. “All good?” 

“Yup. My mum was just glad to know I had friends other than Chenle. She thinks I’m a loner.” Jisung chuckled a little awkwardly, scratching the back of his head and blushing, ears tipping red before dropping to the floor next to him and watching him fill the bottles with wide eyes. “What are you doing?” He sounded almost awed. 

“Making you a present.” Jaemin booped Jisung’s cute nose, shaking the bottle a little to flatten the stars, and he poured in another handful. Really, they’d made quite a few because the bottles, while not super big, were about fifteen centimeters tall and five across at the base, tapering as it went up. The rainbow of colours was honestly beautiful, and Jaemin was just happy to make something simple for Jisung out of their combined efforts. 

He finished off the bottle with a final cascade of stars before capping it off with a beige cork, tying a thin red ribbon around the neck of the bottle. It had a little card attached to it with the words, _thank you, Jisungie. I had a wonderful night,_ written on it, embellished with a tiny heart. “Ta da! Here you go!” He handed it to Jisung with a smile. “Now you’ve got something concrete and lasting to remember today with! Just don’t read the card until you get home, okay?” 

Jisung nodded, holding the bottle between his hands reverently as he looked down at the stars, eyes suspiciously shiny. Jaemin debated saying something to him about it before deciding not to, instead just ruffling his hair and hauling himself back up the mini set of stairs he had on the floor to enable mobility before settling back into his chair and moving over to his bed. 

“Are you ready to sleep yet, or do you want to stay up a little later?” 

Jisung pulled his gaze away from the bottle with obvious trouble before looking over at him and smiling a tiny, mousey smile. “I think I’m sleepy now.” 

“Okay. Are you okay sharing with me, or…?” There was a futon in the closet, Jaemin knew, although he was relatively certain he couldn’t move it without Jisung’s help, not like this.

“Uh, I don’t care if you don’t?” 

“I don’t.” Jaemin busied himself with getting into his bed, leaning on the rail on his end table to get him up before adjusting his body under the covers. By the time he was settled, Jisung was back to admiring the bottle, and it was starting to worry Jaemin. Had Jisung never gotten a present before? 

“Are you okay, Jisungie?” He asked carefully, eyeing him with concern. 

“Uh, yeah, no, I’m okay.” Jisung glanced away from the bottle to look at him quizzically. “I’m just really happy to have gotten a present, is all.” 

Jaemin’s heart filled with fondness for the younger boy. His night had taken quite a turn because of him and Jaemin couldn’t be more grateful. “Aw, aigoo, but it’s the least I could do! And besides, you helped make the stars too! I wouldn’t have had a clue otherwise!” 

Jisung just hummed before tucking the bottle into his bag carefully, patting the bag once after it was hidden inside the folds of the canvas, and pattered over to where Jaemin’s own bottle was resting near his bookshelf. 

“Can I write you a note to?” He looked at Jaemin with bright, big owlish eyes and Jaemin felt himself falling. _Yup, I’m adopting Jisung_ , he decided, smiling happily inside his head before nodding enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, of course! I’d love that! Markers and paper are in a cup behind the Harry Potter books.” 

“Behind?” 

“Little cousins. They’ve got quite the knack for finding things that I don’t want found, but if they’re hidden, and all the way up there…” 

Jisung laughed, eyes crinkling as he scribbled a message for Jaemin and tied it around the bottle as well, this time with a white ribbon. 

Once he was finished, he curled up next to Jaemin in the bed, a few feet away as they lay there in mutual silence, the lights off and only the sound of their breathing to fill the space. It was comfortable, friendly, and Jaemin was struck once again by what it felt like to make a new friend. He hadn’t done so in such a long time, and _it felt nice_ , he thought, grinning into the darkness. 

“Jaemin-hyung?” 

“Hm?”

“Can we cuddle…?”

“Yeah, if you want to. I have to warn you though, I kick a lot in my sleep.” He turned over to grin at Jisung, who looked confused for a second before he got it, chuckling awkwardly as if he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to or not. “No,” Jaemin smiled at him reassuringly, “I’m just joking. In all seriousness, I don’t move much at all. That’s kind of why cuddling is hard for me to be anything but the pillow. My legs really only lay comfortably one way, otherwise my hips ache like a bitch in the morning.” 

Just as he’d thought, Jisung didn’t judge at all and didn’t say a thing as he curled up closer to Jaemin and laid down just next to his shoulder, wrapping his long, lanky arms around Jaemin’s torso. Instantly, Jaemin felt warmer and safer, despite it not having been thy long since he slept in someone’s arms (Hey, Renjun might sleep-punch, but he gave _excellent_ cuddles _)._

Jaemin was drifting off in no time, mind at ease and content with the warmth at his side and the fire in his heart. He didn’t feel whole yet, but he felt right and that was enough. 

Jisung snuck out of the bed around three in the morning to go to the bathroom and make sure his alarms were set since they had school the next morning, stumbling around Jaemin’s house in the dark blindly before finding it.

When he came back, bladder relieved, Jaemin was staring after him sleepily, looking ruffled and exhausted.

“Come back to bed,” he whined, making grabby hands at him, and Jisung felt a little swell of affection for the elder. Jaemin always tried to be cute but when he wasn’t trying was when he was the cutest. Of course, it wasn’t enough to turn him from his own crush, but it was adorable nonetheless.

Jisung settled back in behind him to hug Jaemin like he had been before, skinship not being a problem at all to either of them, and nestling into the extra warmth. He was just starting to drift off when Jaemin’s voice cut through the air, raspy from sleep.

“Mm, I love you, Jeno.” Jisung froze as Jaemin cuddled closer to him, hugging his arms to his chest. Of all things that had come out of the night, he’d never expected this one.

Obviously, he had known the state of things when he’d come over. Renjun had told Chenle that Jaemin and Jeno were on rocky terms, who had then told Jisung, and the two of them had put the pieces together after seeing a video from the cafeteria on the school’s social media, praising the kingka couple. Their hearts had broken for Jaemin even as they had agreed to let the issue resolve itself on its own, without their interference.

But that hadn’t stopped Jisung from wanting to be there for Jaemin. He knew they weren’t all that close, but Jisung really respected Jaemin’s warm personality and kind heart. There was a special sunshine that shone out of Jaemin no matter how sad he was, and Jisung really admired him for it. He wanted to be there for Jaemin without him needing to ask how Jaemin would’ve been for him.

He just hadn’t expected it to be so fun. Jisung had expected heartbreak emanating out of the walls and pain pouring off him in deluges, but no, Jaemin had been calm and collected, ever the responsible and sweet hyung. Jisung had prepared a box of tissues and a list of things he _maybe_ disliked about Jeno if Jaemin wanted to rant about him, but none of those things had happened. It had been relaxed and chill, and Jisung had been blown away. Jaemin liked to act crazy and, to be honest, was a little crazy in the best of ways, but he was far more mature than he seemed, and Jisung had been a little surprised when confronted with all of it. 

What was he supposed to do now, break Jaemin’s heart? 

“I love you too, hyu- Jaem.” Jisung hugged him a little closer and tried not to feel like he’d just done something terribly wrong.

He wanted to confide in Chenle so badly, but Chenle had drawn the straw for Jeno and that meant that anything Jaemin-related was strictly forbidden. Between the two of them, he just hoped that they could keep both ends of the couple for fracturing beyond repair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeno will make his first appearance since the fallout next chapter, I promise (it’s a long one!). I didn’t even think about leading everyone on so hard...I hope the Jisung fluff wasn't too disappointing instead OTL
> 
> Take care, all, and please, try not to hate me too much TT


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tiny glimpse of Jeno is here~

Lunch on the first day of March started off as a quiet affair. It was a dreary Wednesday, the cloud’s plight thundering against the roof of the school building and sliding down the window that Jaemin had positioned himself in front of to enjoy his lunch in peace. Renjun had holed himself up in the library with Mark Lee, studying for exams in The Cave. Donghyuck, ever the dutiful boyfriend, had happily holed up in there with them, content to spend time with (and annoy) Mark as he attempted to study. For Renjun’s sake, Jaemin hoped that annoying him was all Hyuck did. 

It was strange to eat lunch alone, but Jaemin figured that it couldn’t be all that different from walking home alone, right? It just involved food this time around. Food made everything better. 

Still, his brain started to wander, drifting off to imagine Renjun trying to strangle Donghyuck over a box of pizza as Mark stood between them, trying to pry them apart, hair frazzled and worry lines etched into his forehead prematurely. He imagined the textbooks strewn all across the floor, imprints of his friends’ bodies in the beanbags that they had temporarily unoccupied. The smell of old books and school cleaner would be omnipresent as the words in their notes and textbooks started to waver from the stress and redundancies of reviewing what they’d already learned. 

Jaemin stared out the window with a moody expression, deliberately facing away from the cafeteria doors as he stabbed at his kimchi with his chopsticks absently. The cabbage was good today, and Jaemin was enjoying the stretch of traditional Korean food that Jongdae was doing (not that he didn’t love mac and cheese day too), but it was still too weird to be seated alone. 

There was another note in his pocket, done in the same style as the old one, and there were varying designs with dots and lines spread across the page. It had been a long time since the second had arrived, and frankly, Jaemin had believed the sender had given up. However, he ended up with a new one in his English textbook, but it was significantly less threatening than the first and more mysterious than the second. Nonetheless, it was affecting Jaemin’s mood. He didn’t know who was sending them and if there was nothing for Renjun to sleuth with, it was useless to try to find out. 

The longer he sat there, the longer he dwelled on Jeno’s absence, knowing fully well that his best friend and ex-boyfriend was probably sitting somewhere behind him, being disgustingly cute with Rushi or whatever her name was, twining her purple hair around his fingers without a care and laughing when she offered to feed him. He imagined Jeno’s long, slender fingers laced between his girlfriend’s, probably squeezing them tight and stroking his thumb over the top of her hand the way he had loved to do with Jaemin. Jeno had always had such a fascination with Jaemin’s hands, holding them or interlocking their fingers whenever he had the chance. 

It was strange to think of him doing that with someone else, and yet the pain he felt thinking about it had long since dulled to a subtle throb, despite it only having been a month. He and Jeno still hadn’t spoken. Jaemin knew from just a few weeks of experience that it was just going to continue to ebb and flow. Emotions were weird, and if there was anything he had learned lying in Jongin’s medical ward, it was that love was even stranger. 

Thinking of it now, he still wasn’t sure what he was going to do with Jeno. They’d only dated properly for a  _ week  _ (strange undefined period notwithstanding) before the fiasco hit, and it was just bizarrely complex. On the one hand, kissing another person in a public space, or even at all, really, was a direct betrayal of Jaemin’s trust. Not only that, it was a direct violation of the unspoken law of ‘being faithful in a relationship is a must if you have not specified being non-monogamous.’ And Jaemin was pretty sure that was not the case for them. On the other hand, Jeno had called him the day of, sounding distraught and highly regretful, meaning that there was clearly more to this story than he had thought. But the question was, was Jeno being genuine, or was Jaemin only going to get his heart broken even worse? 

He tugged at his number 27 jersey absently as he thought it over, the pros and cons of agreeing to see Jeno one last time. He’d thought of it so many times in the past three weeks, Jeno was almost like a parasite living in his brain, rent free. He  _ did  _ want to get closure from the abrupt breakup, and he kind of wanted to know why Jeno had done what he had done. For cons, however, there was a lot of pain he could cause himself by agreeing to meet Jeno at all. For one, he could learn that Jeno had never cared at all and it was simply a ruse, or he could learn that Jeno had felt pressured into the relationship, or simply that Jeno didn’t love him anymore. Cheating was a serious offense, and it was never a mistake. If Jeno had loved him, he shouldn’t have been able to kiss Rushi as he did, behind Jaemin’s back and right in front of him. 

If Jaemin was smart, he should simply just let Jeno rot inside for what he had done to him and never give him space in his head again. 

Somehow, that revelation hurt more than anything else. 

He was about to give in and head to the library instead when Yukhei plopped down next to him, tray clanking against the table loudly as the giant manoeuvred his long legs under it. 

“Hey, Jaemin! You look sad, is something wrong?” Yukhei, ever cheerful and oblivious, appeared to have forgotten that, in public spaces, one does not yell out names nor point out deteriorating mental states while sitting down next to someone obviously regretting their life choices. It was a one way trip to Faux Paus City, and it looked like Yukhei would be the only passenger flying Jaemin’s International Aeroplane Service of Utter Mortification to get there. 

Fun. 

“Keep it down, Xuxi!” Jaemin hissed, smacking his hand over his friend’s mouth and glancing around at what little parts of the cafeteria he could see, hoping no one had noticed. “I’m trying to brood and be heartbroken in silence!” 

“Oh!” Yukhei mumbled against Jaemin’s palm, eyes wide. “I see.” He paused, winking exaggeratedly at Jaemin and smiling so wide Jaemin could feel his lips stretching out into a gummy grin.

Jaemin stared at him blankly before pulling his hand back and wiping it against his shorts.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re pretending to be angsty so people will leave you alone, right? I totally forgot you’ve been practicing, I’m sorry!” The giant beamed at him innocently, eyes sparkling, even as Jaemin’s eye twitched with annoyance. 

Pretending to be sad? _ Really? No, he doesn’t know. Don’t get mad. Why are you even  _ upset?  _ It’s been forever!  _

He knew Yukhei was just a big, fluffy overgrown puppy in much of the same sense that Jeno was, and he knew that there was not a single malicious bone in Lucas’s body. He never would have said something to deliberately upset him, and quite honestly, Jaemin was pretty sure Yukhei was teasing. 

But the frustration bubbled over anyway, the ache stinging just a little too much at the moment. His head wasn’t giving him any leeway, and his emotions were rearing up to compensate. 

“No, I’m not pretending, Yukhei. In fact, Jeno broke up with me weeks ago, and I’m still not over it, sorry if that sounds pathetic. And actually? I don’t think I want to deal with people right now. See you later.” Jaemin packed up his stuff and hustled out of the cafeteria, eyes fixated on the floor, to hide the nonsensical anger that was clearly written across his face and to avoid having to see Jeno, if he came across him. 

He made it out of the cafeteria and was on his way to the gardens or the library, whichever one he found first, when someone stumbled in front of him, laughing as they tripped over a backpack tossed carelessly in the middle of the hall. Actually, when Jaemin looked up, too fixated on the linoleum tiles to register anything else, he discovered that it was in fact two people who were staring at him and not just the one who tripped over the bag. And, to ice the cake and top it with the metaphorical cherry (of death), they were the two last people Jaemin wanted to see. 

Lo and behold, Lee Jeno and Liu Rushi were in front of him, smiling as if they had shared some secret moment that ought to have been written in the stars. The smile on Jeno’s face was so wide that it looked effervescent, and his eyes were bright as he looked at his  _ girlfriend.  _

After thirty-two days of being Jeno-less, and twenty-three since Jeno had cheated, Jaemin was being faced with his ex-boyfriend and former best friend, in the flesh, with his girlfriend at his side, blissfully undistracted by kisses or other people. It was just the three of them, standing on opposing sides of the hallway, waiting for the other to make a move. 

“Wait, Jaemin, I—“, Jaemin just nodded, not even paying attention, before turning on his wheel and heading towards Jongin’s office to wait out lunch _.  _ He wasn’t interested in anything Jeno wanted to say right then. 

Talking with the nurse made him feel better, and listening to Jongin recount the crazy escapades of Junmyeon and the rest of the teachers when they were younger was fascinating. He learned about Mr. Park and Mr. Byun’s off-and-on flings in college before they got it together; he learned that Kyungsoo’s personality had always been prickly, and he learned about Jongdae’s wife and daughter. He also learned more about Jongin himself, and his side career as a backup dancer before his leg was taken away and dancing took the backburner to medical school. Jongin’s easy story-telling took his mind off of Jeno for a while until the bell rang, and then the second, and then it was time for Jaemin to get going. 

As he wheeled down the hall, Jaemin decided that he didn't feel hurt this time, just sick. He was sick and tired of this shit, of seeing Jeno fetching up against the walls with someone who wasn’t himself. He didn’t want to be at school; he didn’t want to see Jeno, he didn’t want to think about functioning like a reasonable human being. He just wanted to simmer in silence, nursing his pot until it boiled over, and he didn’t care who got burned. 

Park’s class with Yukhei was stiff and uncomfortable, and, although he felt bad for snapping at the other boy, he was too tired to try to make up properly. He’d clean up their relationship later when clear thinking wasn’t entirely impossible. 

He’d busied himself with sketching designs for his wheelchair, mapping out little chibis of his friends and making a tiny peach for himself as an afterthought. A keyboard began to take shape under his pencil as Chenle’s effervescent laughter echoed in his head, making him smile, and a little moomin with its fists raised to fight formed right next to it. A tiny mouse wearing a crown of stars came next, mimicking the cute way Jisung scrunched his nose when he laughed or smiled, and a simple sun bled into a stem and leaves for Donghyuck. A sun rising over the mountain peaks was for his mother, and a gold medal with a rose blooming in the center was for his father. After some consideration, Jaemin drew a barbel for Yukhei and a bunny for Eunbi, and, after another second, he added a happiness coin at the base of his mother’s mountains with the word  _ lucky  _ written under it for Junmyeon. 

The designs flowed surprisingly easily, and Jaemin was honestly really happy because he was usually not the best at transferring the images in his head onto the paper. He made the collage big enough to fill the space between his handles at the back so he could laminate them in the plastic sheets from the copy room later. He was nearly finished when he realized that one person was missing. 

Well, not missing, but excluded. Jaemin eyed the only patch of empty space with trepidation.  _ Jeno.  _ There was enough space to fit one last drawing on the left, but drawing Jeno onto his chair...did he really deserve a place on it now? Him and Rushi in the locker alcove flashed in Jaemin’s mind, and Jaemin flinched as if physically pained. 

He was spared from having to answer by the bell, and Jaemin packed up slowly, already seeing the determination set in Yukhei’s face as he made his way over. It seemed no one was letting him get away with anything today. 

“Jaemin, did I do something wrong?” Yukhei’s big, wide eyes were right up in his face, and Jaemin recoiled a little from the proximity before pulling what was sure to be an unflattering face. 

“Ugh, no, I’m sorry I overreacted earlier. I was kind of moody, and I shouldn't have snapped at you.” Jaemin scrunched up one of his eyes at him, corners of his mouth tilting downward. “I really didn’t mean to yell at you, Xuxi. My emotions have been a mess lately, but that’s not a good excuse.” 

“Aw man, don’t worry about it. I totally understand, and I definitely shouldn’t have teased you after what happened.” His eyes were wide and imploring, and Jaemin was melting a little under the onslaught. Was this how people felt when he puppy-eyed them? “Friends?” Yukhei asked.

“Totally.” Jaemin stuck his hand out and Yukhei grabbed it eagerly, pumping his entire arm up and down with his enthusiasm. Jaemin was laughing with him as Yukhei’s grin widened until a face peeking in the doorway caught his attention. _ I know those eyes.  _

Two tired eyes were occupying the doorway, rimmed in shadows and wide with curiosity, staring directly at Jaemin. Jaemin’s heart was beating strangely, and it felt as if it was skipping beats. As he watched, Jeno stepped further into view, and Jaemin got a good look at him for the first time in days. Jeno looked exhausted, truly, and his posture was all slumped and hunched, far worse than his usual atrocious way of standing as he shoved his hands further into the pockets of his sweats. His hair was unstyled and limp looking, hanging in oily strands against his forehead, the ends brushing the tops of his ears, far longer than he usually allowed it. But the worst part? Jeno’s lips were tinted red, ever so slightly, and Jaemin would be damned before he thought about the implications of it.

Jeno looked helpless and lost, an unidentifiable emotion painted across his features in thick layers, sinking into his skin as he stood there, alone, and tried to make himself look invisible. Sorrow clung to him like a second skin, and even from meters away, Jaemin could feel it radiating off him like steam in a sauna. 

All in all, he looked like hell, and a tiny part of Jaemin was glad while the other went into overprotective overdrive. 

As it was, Jeno’s eyes were glued on Jaemin himself, or, more specifically, his and Yukhei’s intertwined hands. Jaemin watched him glance between them and his face before a shield dropped over the previous vulnerability and his Jeno was gone, replaced with a stranger. 

Their eyes met, and Jaemin felt a spark of  _ something  _ inside him, getting lost in Jeno’s piercing eyes. They were longing even as the mask remained, and every twitch of Jeno’s jaw and pull of his eyebrows brought an indescribable ache out of the pit of Jaemin’s stomach and into his chest, spilling out in deluges. The brush of his eyelashes along his cheekbones tugged at Jaemin’s heartstrings as his grip on Yukhei’s hand tightened, the older boy taking it in stride, and the tiny freckle next to them was nearly overshadowed by the bags under them. 

He still looked beautiful to Jaemin. This was why he didn’t want to see Jeno again. It would be all the more harder to turn away from his allure because Jaemin was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. No matter what he did, his heart was going to keep coming back to Jeno until Jaemin could bear to get rid of him, but he couldn’t imagine a time where his heart  _ didn’t  _ beat in an endless rhythm of Jeno _.  _

He was drawn from his reverie when Jeno glanced between the hands and Jaemin’s face one last time, meeting Jaemin’s eyes for a split second before he ripped them away, and ducked back out of the doorway like he’d never been there, just a figment of Jaemin’s imagination. He’d have been inclined to believe so too, if Yukhei hadn’t been staring at the door in the same way, looking shell shocked. 

“Was that—wow.” 

“Yeah.” Jaemin dropped Yukhei’s hand, suddenly feeling very self-conscious and brushed imaginary lint off his legs with shaking hands. He could feel the sweat on his palms, cool and wet, and he hoped none of it had gotten on Yukhei. 

“Do you—uh, should I go get him for you? For talking or killing?” 

Jaemin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, clenching his fingers in the material of his jeans. “I don’t think I’m ready for that,” he whispered honestly. 

“Okay, yeah, that’s fine,” said Yukhei, patting his thigh in a way that was clearly supposed to be supportive but was mostly awkward because his hand took up the entire expanse of it. “Do you, uh, want to go? I have basketball practice, but I can let you into the secret part of the locker room if you don’t have too much homework? Or I could walk you home? I’m sure Mark can cover for me.”

“Uh, no, it’s okay. I can get home on my own. Thanks, Xuxi.” 

“Are you sure? I swear it’s not a problem!” 

Jaemin huffed a chuckle and picked up Yukhei’s backpack for him. “I’m sure.” 

They walked out together, Jaemin taking a glance to make sure their teacher hadn’t witnessed the awkward doorway moment, but the history teacher was thoroughly engaged in a conversation with Yuqi and didn’t seem to notice there were any kids in his classroom at all. They were rolling out the door, already parting ways, when Jaemin stopped to unwind his headphones and stick them in his ears. He waved bye to Yukhei before glancing down at his phone to stick some music in the queue when a flash of movement caught his eye. It was intriguing because his class was on the far end of the school, away from ninety percent of the afterschool activity classrooms, and there shouldn’t really be anyone left. 

He glanced at the locker alcove curiously, as another person whirled by, shadow flashing against the floor, definitely male, and a few peals of laughter echoed through the cinderblock. Jaemin was about to go back to his phone and chalk it up to friends having fun when a little girl appeared in the hallway, picked up and placed there by strong arms that quickly receded back into the alcove. The familiar little girl glanced back at the alcove with her hands on her hips, clutching her bunny, before looking back towards Jaemin. The gentle hands nudged her forward a little when she showed no intention of moving, making shooing motions as Jaemin watched them curiously, and then Eunbi was running at him, pigtails flying and light-up sneakers flashing as she ran. 

“Hey, cutie!” Jaemin cooed as she clambered up into his lap like he was a tree for climbing, mysterious people easily forgotten, and draped herself around his neck, squeezing him tight. As usual, her bunny was up in his face as well, worn and scraggly ears tickling his nose as her pigtails whipped around in his eyes. “What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be with your dad?” 

“Je—” she paused and wrinkled her nose cutely, “—someone scooped me up and brought me out here because they were looking for you.” The chipperness coating her words, paired with the luminous and bright, innocent eyes  _ destroyed  _ Jaemin (not like that was hard, children were  _ irresistible _ ), and his resolve crumbled like a sandcastle built too close to the tide. 

“Does Junmyeon know where you are?” 

“No? Daddy was busy talking to icky Mrs. Jeon in the office and—your tall friend—just carried me out the door after he promised me ice cream and cuddles.” She looked at him with wide eyes, bangs flopping to the sides with a little fluff, “there will be cuddles, right oppa??”

Jaemin squeezed the little six year old and planted a kiss on her head, noting that there was a patch of sticky skin that tasted like cherries on it, almost like Jeno’s old chapstick? Maybe that was why his lips had been so red? Brushing it off with a sigh, he cuddled her close and tucked her into his chest with his backpack straps functioning as a seatbelt. He made sure her skirt was all flat and that she was comfortable before tugging on his gloves because Junmyeon’s office was too far away to go without them. 

“Of course there’ll be cuddles!” He cried, layering on the aegyo harder when she giggled and bounced on his lap. “You can have all the cuddles you want, but we have to go back to Dad, okay? We don’t want him to miss you!” 

“Okay, oppa!” 

Jaemin couldn't resist squishing her cheeks a little and giving her an extra hug, heart warm and full-feeling. He knew Jeno was probably behind this and hiding in the lockers, and also that there was clearly some scheming he was up to, but if there was a cute toddler in his lap that Jaemin was highly infatuated with, well, it was hard to be mad. Now wasn’t the time for Jeno. 

They needed to talk and they would, Jaemin had made up his mind right then that it  _ was  _ going to happen eventually, but now was not the time nor the place. He glanced at the lockers curiously to see if Jeno had darted out without him noticing, but he was still there, a single tuft of black hair hanging out of the alcove enough to clue Jaemin in that he was watching. Jaemin just nodded at him, knowing Jeno could see, and shifted Eunbi a little in his lap. The little girl cuddled in, nestling into his chest, and Jaemin had never wanted a little sister more. Maybe in the future. 

“Eunbi, are you ready to see what it feels like to race down the halls in the fastest wheelchair in Seoul? Hold on tight!” 

Junmyeon, to his credit, didn’t even try to deny that he’d lost his daughter this time and, instead, accepted defeat graciously, waving Jaemin towards his office informing him that it was cleaner now while he impatiently nodded to confirm to Mrs. Jeon that he indeed knew what he was doing when it came to athletics funding, and Jaemin decided to leave him to it, delivering his toddler to the room without protest. 

While they waited for him, Eunbi and Jaemin took their time to catch their breath, Jaemin from speeding down the hallways and Eunbi from laughing as hard as she did, her giggles high and squealing, painting the walls with sunshine and rainbows. It was effervescent and encapsulating, and Jaemin’s mood was lifted tenfold each time the little girl laughed. Children were a special kind of medicine, and Eunbi was soothing Jaemin’s soul all on her own. 

Abruptly, Junmyeon rushed into the room in a flurry of motion, the embodiment of a tornado as he discarded a stack of papers, swept up another into his arms, and spun out again with a whip of coattails and ruffled hair. Jaemin watched him dump the stack on the secretary’s desk with amusement before turning his gaze to the office itself 

The room looked...better? Last time Jaemin had seen it, the office had been more of a disorganized file cabinet of a space rather than a functional room, and the desk had been buried under stacks of paper that could have rivaled his standing height. In its cleaned up state, Jaemin could maybe see an ebony corner if he squinted, and the paper behemoths were relocated to the back corners of the room, lined up like skyscrapers. Luckily, there was enough room for him to manoeuver comfortably, but it was clear he and Junmyeon had  _ very  _ different definitions of what ‘clean’ entailed. 

“So, what have you been up to?” asked Jaemin, eyeing Eunbi, who had since crawled off his lap and plopped onto the floor to play with her bunny, swirling it around the stacks of paper in great, big, swooping motions. “I haven’t seen you in over a month!” 

Eunbi looked up at him through long eyelashes and huffed a pout, jutting out her bottom lip. She squished her bunny to her chest and wiggled from side to side a little, her little legs thumping her feet against the ground. “Nothing!” she cried, looking put out by the statement. “Appa has been too busy working and ‘romancing Na Sooyi-nim’.” She said his mother’s name with the air of a child who was unfamiliar with using it, and Jaemin was surprised that she’d be so formal because he would have thought Junmyeon would have been more casual about the woman he was dating with his daughter. Apparently not. 

Somehow, that made him like the older man better. 

“Do you know who Na Sooyi-nim is?” Jaemin tugged off his gloves and pulled off his jersey. Being in Junmyeon’s office was akin to visiting a sauna on a humid day. 

“Oppa’s eomma?” Innocence danced in her eyes and Jaemin was a sucker because he went willingly. 

“Exactly! What does that mean?” Jaemin grinned at her, but he was mostly just curious how Eunbi thought about it because, if she hadn’t, he certainly had considered what would happen if Junmyeon married his mother and what it would mean for the two of them. She was still younger so most people would assume she didn’t know what stepsiblings were, but Jaemin already knew Eunbi was smart and even if she hadn’t known, he was curious would she would think when broached with the idea. 

Not that he wanted Junmyeon to marry his mother. Absolutely not. 

“Jaemin-oppa would be my real brother!” 

Okay,  _ maybe  _ if he got to keep Eunbi, it would be tolerable. He had always wanted a sister...

“Yeah! Wouldn’t that be so cool, Eunbi? We could have sleepovers and play all the games you want with your rabbit—“ Jaemin never got to inquire after the bunny’s name because Junmyeon was bustling back into the office and making a beeline towards his tiny daughter whom he scooped up and spun three-hundred and sixty degrees in the typical parental injury check before hauling her up into his arms and facing Jaemin. 

“Thank you so much for finding her, Jaemin! Gosh we keep meeting like this!” Junmyeon shot him a stressed smile, wrinkles digging furrows in his brow and at the corner of his eyes as he whispered something unintelligible in Eunbi’s ear. 

“Uh, it’s no problem, Dr. Junmyeon-ssi.” Jaemin felt immensely awkward sitting there all of a sudden, in a place that was clearly his mother’s boyfriend’s natural environment where the power dynamics were intact at full force, having been caught discussing future siblinghood with his favorite child in Seoul who happened to belong to said boyfriend who Jaemin  _ maybe _ disliked on principle. 

“Please don’t be so formal,” Junmyeon griped, bouncing Eunbi a little on his hip. The extra movement was what did in her left pigtail, and the tiny rubber band that was holding on slid off with a dull bounce. Both men stared after it with varying expressions before Junmyeon finished sadly, “it makes me feel old.” 

Jaemin stifled a laugh at the put-out look on the principal's face before stretching his arms out. “Here, I can take her and fix her hair for you.” 

Junmyeon handed her over without a moment of hesitation, swiping a hand through his hair, frazzled, while Jaemin re-tied and braided Eunbi’s curls, parting her hair delicately with a random business card on her father’s desk. 

“I don’t know how to do any of these things,” Junmyeon cried mournfully when Jaemin finished off the second ponytail. “After my wife died, well, I learned I’m not a very good beautician. Not good at  _ all.  _ But I do my best for her.” Junmyeon leveled him with a surprisingly adult-like look, one usually reserved between adults that respected each other and not at all one for teenagers who attended your school and belonged to the woman you dated, but here Jaemin was so he guessed strange things could happen anywhere. “I do love my daughter.” 

Jaemin blinked at him.  _ Where was this going?  _ “I know you love Eunbi, Junmyeon-ssi?” 

Silence. And then: 

“Jaemin?” Junmyeon fell back into his desk chair with an exhausted expression as it rolled back a few centimeters. His tone was serious and not at all like the frazzled man Jaemin was used to, half put-together but always kind. It was kind of frightening. 

“I’m starting to grow very attached to your mother,” he started, and already, Jaemin was cringing, holding Eunbi closer and plugging her ears wishing he could do the same for himself.  _ I swear if Junmyeon is giving me some sort of sex talk… _

“Hey, don’t make that face! I’m not going to say anything embarrassing!” Junmyeon sounded affronted and Jaemin couldn’t help the pained chuckle and incredulous look he shot the older man. “Anyway,” Junmyeon continued, frowning at him in a way that was distinctly Junmyeon-esque in Jaemin’s experience and eyeballing his daughter before declaring her occupation with her rabbit suitable, “I wanted to ask for your permission to go on a date with Sooyi on Friday.” Hope was written all over his face, and it just made Jaemin cringe more. 

He kind of liked Junmyeon but...he was a  _ man.  _ Courting his  _ mother.  _ Not that it would be different if it was a woman, but the thought was still disgusting because it was  _ his eomma.  _ The woman who birthed him, dating a new man, maybe even doing the nasty with him, and oh god, Jaemin needed to stop thinking before he gagged. 

It didn’t feel like a betrayal of his father anymore because Jaemin knew he would have wanted the love of his life, his sun, to move on and see new people who made her as happy as she had made him if not more so, but it didn’t quite take away the weird, even if it had been a while since Jaemin had learned of their relationship and lord new how long previously. Plus Junmyeon was his  _ principal  _ and if Jaemin ever got into any dumb shit with his friends he was going to get scolded trifold, once as a student, and twice as a child. 

“Answer a question for me, first?” Jaemin was very proud of how smooth and mature his voice sounded. 

“Of course!” Junmyeon nodded eagerly and Jaemin tamped down the fondness swelling inside of him unwillingly for reasons he didn’t want to acknowledge. 

“How long have you two been dating?” 

Junmyeon had the sense to look sheepish, and it immediately made Jaemin suspicious. He knew they’d been on routine dates since the one at his house, but that told him nothing of the past. The heat in the office had ramped up considerably since he entered, and Jaemin could feel his own sweat sliding down his neck and the stickiness on Eunbi’s skin against his forearms as he waited for the answer. As it was, the little girl was blinking up at him with a mix of curiosity and sleepiness, rubbing at her eyes with her bunny’s paw. 

“Um...three months?” That was two more than Jaemin knew about, but he couldn’t really blame his mum for it. 

“Do you love her?” 

“Ah,” Junmyeon squeaked, flushing and Jaemin suspected his answer was well underway inside the man’s heart, whether he chose to acknowledge it or not. “That remains to be seen, but I truly think I could?” 

“Fine. You can go out with her on Friday under three conditions.” He paused to make a serious face, hopefully something in between a scowl and a glower. Jaemin wasn’t really sure what it was. He wasn’t very good at being intimidating. 

“One, I get to babysit Eunbi when you guys go out.” Jaemin had uncovered her ears before he said it, and the brilliant and toothy smile he’d received made it all worth it as she squealed and bounced on his lap, throwing her arms around his neck. Jaemin watched in fascination as Junmyeon’s eyes caught on his daughter and softened infinitesimally before he was nodding along, smiling encouragingly at Jaemin to continue. Something that felt like contentment bloomed in Jaemin’s heart for Junmyeon. 

“Second,” Jaemin drawled, covering Eunbi’s ears again, “I want no nasty business! Keep your hands to yourself. Kisses are okay but no hanky-panky!” The embarrassed flush overtaking the principal’s face was so worth it, even as Eunbi bounced a little too hard on his lap in protest. He winced and let her go, the little girl plopping onto the floor once again with no apparent regard for the conversation taking place, and he continued as Junmyeon fumbled around for a coherent sentence, “and third, I want you to know that if you break my eomma’s heart, not only will you have to deal with her killing you, you’ll have to deal with me as well. I will never forgive you and I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth if you make her hurt.” Jaemin made sure his eyes bored holes into Junmyeon’s before he was spinning around smoothly, heading towards the door with a tiny smile decorating his face. He heard the tiny squeak of surprise, and it brought out a bigger grin. 

_ Junmyeon is so easy to mess with,  _ he thought, not without amusement, and Jaemin turned around just as he was about to leave, tossing a cool smile over his shoulder. “See you on Friday, then?” He waved to Eunbi as he went and winked at Junmyeon in a way that he hoped was suavely threatening before sweeping out the door with a flourish. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


End file.
